


The Job Interview from Hell

by winterstorrm



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Homophobia, Kidnapping, M/M, Violence, attempted non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-25
Updated: 2013-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-24 23:20:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 92,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/269013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterstorrm/pseuds/winterstorrm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the TV show ’The Apprentice’ Merlin is a candidate, Sir Uther is mean and Arthur is his boardroom assistant. Will Merlin make it through the twelve weeks without hearing the immortal words, ‘You’re fired’?  Is he playing to win the job or Arthur's heart?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I was supposed to be cleaning this up on LJ and posting it as I did so on here but I made it till chapter 7 then got sidetracked - about 2 years ago! Thus am adding 7 onwards without re-reading for errors - mainly because I keep getting messages from people reading on here who are waiting for the rest of the fic! Thus from week 8 onwards the italics etc formatting is missing. I'll fix this one day I swear.
> 
> Here is the rest of the fic! (6 June 2013)

Late Spring 2009

For twelve weeks every year Merlin loved Wednesday nights. Will would refrain from going to the pub, Merlin would close the darkroom door or shut off his laptop; they would order a takeaway, and sit in front of 'The Apprentice' and mock the stupidity of the contestants.  
Will would shout at the TV, and Merlin would mutter under his breath about the general incompetence of pretty much everyone on the screen. Both of them were of the opinion that either the brains of these supposed cream of the crop individuals went to mush as soon as they were on camera, or that the BBC deliberately picked total twats for entertainment purposes, or a combination thereof.

When Merlin had finally had enough by episode nine and shouted, "For fuck's sake, even I could do better than that!" when the Project Manager had made an almighty cock up and tried to pressure a man in a wheelchair to buy a parachuting experience.

Will had raised an eyebrow, "Why don’t _you_ enter next year then, if you think you can do better and face down Uther Pendragon in the boardroom?"

Merlin snorted back, "I _would_ if I thought they’d have me. Don’t they audition thousands of hopefuls, high flying mover and shaker types – what would they want with a wedding photographer?"

"Merlin, you’re hardly just a wedding photographer, you run a successful studio and gallery. Anyone who’s anyone wants you doing their wedding, your prints sell for hundreds, your workshop is a runaway success – you are a high flying mover and shaker!"

"All small time stuff," Merlin argued. "There’s no way I’d get past the application stage."  
Will’s lips had twitched. "I never had you pegged as a chicken Merlin."

"I’m not a chicken!" protested Merlin indignantly.

"So, you _couldn’t_ do a better job than those dicks?" Will gestured at the screen, still paused to give audience to Merlin’s rant.

"I totally _could_. I just don’t think I’d get picked in a million years."

"If you don’t apply you’ll never know," challenged Will, the glint in his eye flipping an old almost forgotten switch inside Merlin; back to their childhood, Will daring Merlin to climb the tree, or jump off the top diving board, calling him chicken when he didn’t want to do it.  
"Besides, it might take your mind off-"

"Right then," declared Merlin, interrupting Will before he could finish his sentence, folding his arms with purpose and glaring at Will. "I’m applying, and I’m going to get to the final, and Sir Uther Pendragon is going to be eating out of my hand, begging me to come and work for him, you see if he’s not!"

"I knew you’d do it. Then of course, you’ll tell him where to shove his job, right?" said Will, as though he’d planned this all along, and Merlin wouldn’t have put it past him to have been waiting for this chance to present itself.

"Well, I don’t want to work for him, I’m happy doing what I do," Merlin wasn’t lying either, photography was his life. "It’s not like they’ll let me on anyway."

Will grabbed Merlin’s laptop from the side of the sofa and went to The Apprentice homepage. "They’re already advertising for next year – let’s apply now – no excuses."

Merlin sighed and let Will complete the online form whilst he watched over his shoulder, correcting him if he tried to make Merlin sound more accomplished than he was. If he was going to do this, he was going to be honest on the form – it was always mortifying when candidates got caught in their own lies.

"There." Will slammed the laptop shut with a satisfied grin. "It’s with the Gods now."

"Great," Merlin laughed. "The ‘Gods’ _like_ me."

"I know...but Merlin, if you get through – no _magic_ allowed!"

Merlin sighed again. He’d be able to win if he used his magic no problem, but he supposed that _would_ be cheating. "Not even to make sure I get an audition?"

"Not even then."

  
**::::**   


  


>   
>  October 2010
> 
>  **'The Apprentice' article in the TV Guide:**
> 
> Sir Uther will see you now…
> 
> Sir Uther Pendragon returns to the boardroom to hunt for another budding entrepreneur – but this year’s prize holds a new twist..
> 
> In the five years since the famously hard to please Sir Uther Pendragon first began to search for new business protégés, it has become abundantly clear that shrinking violets need not apply.
> 
> As _The Apprentice_ kicks off its sixth series this week, the current economic climate has made the tough talking tycoon even more resolute about what he expects from the winning candidate.
> 
> "This series has been filmed in the middle of the credit crunch and when you have to start dreaming up ideas to generate some income, you need a risk-taker and a gambler, not a steady Eddie or a cautious Carol," he says. "People with a bit of fire and special spirit about them are the only people who are going to survive in this depressed climate."
> 
> The recession has certainly had a personal impact on several of the 16 candidates embarking on their 12 week job interview from hell.
> 
> "Because of the crunch we wanted to give opportunities to people who had been made redundant. We also have a couple of people struggling to start their own businesses and youngsters who have just left university and can’t get a job," says Pendragon. "We have for some very serious contenders this time and it’s a good blend."
> 
> The prize on offer also offers a new twist this year, and candidates have been offered the option of taking the £100,000 a year job with Sir Uther or alternatively they can take a £75,000 prize to help them set up or improve their own business. Sir Uther is kept in the dark regarding which option the candidates have chosen, and candidates do not have the option to change their mind regarding which prize they want once the show has started shooting. Sir Uther says, "Offering an alternative prize has enabled us take on a wider range of candidates and for whom a job working for me might not be the dream, but having their own business – with some input from my advisers – could be the way forward for them."
> 
> Serious the candidates may be but, thankfully, the usual hilarious back-stabbing and outlandish self-aggrandising are still present from the outset as the aspiring entrepreneurs are thrown straight in at the deep end for their first task.
> 
> Sir Uther is playing his cards very close to his chest about that nature of the first task, but he does add that whatever the candidates do will be under the watchful eye of his shrewd aides, Gaius Wilson and his son – making his first appearance on the show – Arthur Pendragon.  
> On the subject of his son Sir Uther states, "My son Arthur is set to take over the business from me some day. He is excited at this new challenge, and I look forward to working closely with him and Gaius over the coming weeks."
> 
>  **The Apprentice Wednesday, BBC and BBC HD, 9pm**
> 
>  **Who’s in the firing line?**
> 
> 1\. Merlin Emrys, 24, Photographer and artist, Worcestershire  
> "I’ll weave my own brand of magic and knock the competition out of my path."
> 
> 2\. Gwen DeGrace, 25, Wedding dress designer, Cornwall  
> "Keep business simple and get on with the people you work with."
> 
> 3\. Lancelot DuLac, 26, Publishing, Somerset  
> "Always stand by your word, and business will find you."
> 
> 4\. Vivian Olaf, 27, unemployed estate agent, Edinburgh  
> "If you get in my way, I’ll mow you down."
> 
> 5\. Nimueh Slater, 29, Restaurateur, Milton Keynes  
> "I’m like a dog with a bone, I can’t let go. If I want something, I get it."
> 
> 6\. Myror Hunter, 29, Recruitment, London  
> "My first word wasn’t ‘mummy’ it was ‘money’."
> 
> 7\. Sophia Sidhe, 23, National Accounts Manager, Manchester  
> "A lot of people talk the talk, but my results are hard proven."
> 
> 8\. Morgause Gorlois, 30, HR Consultant, Stratford-upon-Avon  
> "I’d liken myself to a Lamborghini: fast, exciting, stylish and successful."
> 
> 9\. Gwaine Noble, 28, Lawyer, Dublin  
> "Don’t go for the quick win, look after your clients."
> 
> 10\. Valiant Bolton, 33, Car Sales, Chester  
> "I’m Valiant Bolton, the brand. I’ve got a certain charisma."
> 
> 11\. Mordred Drew, 21, unemployed graduate, Brighton  
> "I’m ruthless, even in Monopoly."
> 
> 12\. Morgana LeFay, 31, Advertising Executive, London  
> "I’m a hyper achiever. Everything I do is always a success."
> 
> 13\. Helen Myles, 36, unemployed Retail Business manager, Cardiff  
> "In business there’s no place for shirkers. People who work for me deliver."
> 
> 14\. Cenred King, 35, Investment banker, London  
> "Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer."
> 
> 15\. Freya Donnelly, 26, Business Owner, Norwich  
> "Be careful who you tread on as you go up; you’ll need them on the way down."
> 
> 16\. Leon Castle, 31, Architect, Birmingham  
> "I fight hard, but fair."

  


  
**::::**   



	2. Week One

**Week One**

Summer 2010

"Alrighty then," said the stressed looking man from the production company as he checked the final name off on his clipboard. "My name is Ewan. It's my job to look after you guys, so any problems, come to me in the first instance, alright? My number is in your Blackberries."

Merlin, who was still staring at his Blackberry and trying to cover up his confused expression with one of confidence, stifled a groan at Ewan's super perky 'I'm going to talk to you like you are all five years old' voice. _What the heck was he doing here?_ He shot a sideways glance around the other shiny, well groomed people in the group; against the other fifteen smartly dressed confident looking business types, _he_ was totally out of place. How had he slipped through the net?

The group was a fifty-fifty male/female split; and with everyone dressed in their best suits, it was difficult to make any assumptions about what these people he could possibly be spending the next few weeks with were really like.

He'd told himself _before_ that he would be fine if he got kicked out in the first week; that he'd probably be glad to go home – but now he was here – getting kicked out first week, _not_ going to happen. How could he justify all that muttering under his breath about how he could do better for the last five years of watching this show if he bailed at the first hurdle now that he had this miraculous opportunity in his hands and was actually here?

Ewan's assistant, who apparently didn't warrant an introduction as none was made, handed each candidate a foolscap folder with their name on it and a number. "The numbers correspond with your bedroom doors," Ewan explained. "I suggest you all make your way upstairs now and freshen up. I've ordered food to be delivered in an hour for everyone to share; so if you could be back down before then-"

There was a mass shuffle towards the stairs, people still not interacting with one another, probably wanting to find out where they would be sleeping and get settled – if they were anything like Merlin. Merlin was at the back of the queue, never one for pushing and shoving, all way too stressful and, after that incident earlier at the station with that blond prat stealing his taxi, well, the last thing Merlin needed right now was more stress.

"Don't forget – try to ignore the cameras!" called Ewan at the retreating candidates' backs. "There will be a small team – minimum of only one camera person - in the house at all times except the middle of the night."

Merlin smirked to himself, instantly picturing everyone waiting for the production team to leave before playing musical beds.

Not that _he_ had any such intentions, but he knew that in previous shows there had been such goings on. He supposed it was almost inevitable with so many people of a similar age trapped in a confined space for so long.

Merlin found his room at the end of the first floor corridor: number 12. This was the biggest house he'd ever stayed in; more like a huge private hotel really. He closed the bedroom door behind him, taking in the plain white minimalist decor and the king size white covered bed in the centre. Dumping his bags on the chair by the door and the folder in the dressing table, he flung himself face first onto the bed. Sod freshening up – grabbing forty winks was a much better plan.

**::::**

Merlin woke up and staggered down to dinner twenty minutes late; his hair sticking up at the back, the suit discarded swiftly in favour of jeans and a t-shirt.

Okay, he was willing to admit that this wasn't the _best_ start he could have given himself, but it wasn't his fault that the stupid bloody Blackberry alarm hadn't gone off to remind him he needed to get down here and start mingling with the other candidates.

Ewan was waiting for him in the hallway, foot tapping and an icy glare that didn't bode well. "Mr Emrys," he began in his faux perky voice. "Whilst I appreciate you've all had a long day, _everyone else_ managed to make it down for dinner. It wasn't a request, it was an order. If you don't want to be here there are reserve candidates just waiting for their chance to take your place – it's not too late."

"I'm sorry I-"

"As it is," continued Ewan, ignoring Merlin's apology. "You've already missed the introduction to Mr Pendragon who has joined us for the meal tonight. If you're serious about winning this competition then this is someone you need on your side."

"Sir Uther's here?" If he was, Merlin might as well wave goodbye to winning right now; his card would be marked from the offset.

"No, _Arthur_ Pendragon." He sighed heavily at Merlin's blank face. "Please tell me you at least read the information in your folder?"

Merlin felt himself flush; he'd forgotten all about it after collapsing onto his bed. "Er – I kind of fell asleep," he confessed, knowing this was no excuse but somehow feeling the need to explain. "Who's Arthur Pendragon?"

Another sigh, "You'll have to read it all by morning, Mr Emrys, are we clear?" Merlin nodded, thinking that Ewan was definitely going to turn out to be a pain in the arse jobsworth. "Good; now just this once, because it's your first day and I'm in a good mood, I'll help you out, and then we'll go in there and you can try to act like you have _some_ awareness of what is going on." He paused, clearly waiting for some gratitude from Merlin's direction.

"That would be lovely, thank you, Ewan," Merlin simpered, thinking 'play him at his own game'.

Ewan preened. "Wonderful. Well-" he lowered his voice conspiratorially like they were suddenly friends, the patronising tone leaving his voice and making him sound like a normal person. "-Arthur Pendragon is Sir Uther's only son. He's 29, single but probably not for long and he _was_ engaged for a while but that didn't work out – anyway, he works for his father and is set to inherit the lot one day. He's taking over as the third member of 'The Apprentice' board after Geoffrey Monmouth had to pull out due to ill health."

Merlin was about to say something conciliatory about Geoffrey's health when Ewan looked quickly behind him before lowering his voice to a whisper, "Between you and me, I think it's just the BBC wanting a bit more sex appeal on the show – between Sir Uther, Gaius and Geoffrey – well, all of them are entitled to a bus pass if you know what I mean? Arthur-" Ewan coughed and looked behind him again. "-he's got the kind of looks that'll get the viewers in – you get me?"

Merlin could hazard a guess. His curiosity _was_ piqued a little he had to admit. He didn't know what to say though, and since gossiping about the good looks of Pendragon Jnr on his first day was not the best step forward, so instead he said, "I'm sure Sir Uther's not old enough for a bus pass."

"He's not, he's only fifty-four," said a slightly posh and very smooth voice from behind them, and Merlin turned, his brow furrowing as he took in the blue eyed ever so slightly gorgeous blond that had appeared in the doorway behind. Merlin had memorised the faces of the other candidates even if they had all yet to be introduced and Merlin realised courtesy of Ewan's immediate jump to attention and guilty expression that this – totally hot and _worryingly familiar_ Adonis - must be Arthur Pendragon. He blinked and checked again.

"You!" he spat before he could stop himself. "The taxi thief!"

The blue eyes were fixed on Merlin in interest. "The elusive Merlin Emrys I presume?" he queried, ignoring Merlin's outburst; a complete personality transplant from earlier that day when he'd called Merlin an idiot, Merlin had called him a prat, though he wasn't sure Arthur had heard that part seeing as the taxi was speeding away with the blond comfortably settled inside whilst Merlin was on the pavement waving his fist.

Merlin decided it was prudent to follow his lead and nodded.

"Are you always this unreliable?"

Merlin's good intentions went up in smoke and he searched his tired brain for a quick fast witty...anything response to put this gorgeous, arrogant... _prat_ in his place.

"I was just telling Mr Emrys about Mr Monmouth's unfortunate illness," interrupted Ewan before Merlin could reply, and Merlin couldn't help but feel a little sorry for him, as he was clearly wondering how much of the conversation Pendragon Jnr had heard, as well as glad that he had taken it upon himself to butt in and save Merlin from being fired before they even started filming! Merlin supposed on this occasion it wouldn't hurt to help him, and himself, out – otherwise if this got more awkward Ewan might blame Merlin and make things difficult for him later. He didn't need to be making enemies on day one; though should that be, more enemies than _he already had_?

Arthur Pendragon was glowering at _him_ , totally Ewan's fussing.

Merlin blinked, hiding the gold that would flash in his eyes as he did so, and a the doorbell rang, snagging Ewan and Arthur's attention and offering Merlin a good opportunity for him to make his way into the dining room to join the others.

"Erm – excuse me," Merlin sidled past the younger Pendragon, careful not to brush against him. The kick of attraction that had bid him hello upon the appearance of the prat was enough to warn him that this was someone he needed to give a wide berth to, not to forget that Arthur was a total arse. Merlin was here to win; and blond hair and blue eyes were just distractions he didn't want _or_ need.

**::::**

Merlin made sure he charged the Blackberry and used his own, less complicated, mobile phone as his alarm. He was not a morning person by any stretch, and the benefits of working for himself meant that he rarely had to be, but for these next few weeks, or for as long as he lasted – _twelve weeks he hoped_ – Merlin knew he had to embrace the early morning light, and that meant getting into the habit of rising early.

So that Wednesday morning when Merlin's alarm interrupted his slumber, he forced himself out of his bed and into the shower, only feeling marginally more awake after fifteen minutes of being sluiced with lovely steamy water.

They were being thrown in the deep end with their first task today; Merlin needed at least three coffees before he was ready to face whatever it might be.

Dressing himself in a fresh suit – he had purchased three especially for this show having only one rather sorry looking one he wore when he photographed weddings that really would not do for his TV debut – he made his way downstairs to the kitchen, pleased to see that there was no one else there yet. He needed a few minutes of quiet to wake up properly. Thank God he'd avoided the free flowing wine from the night before. He was an embarrassing drunk.

It wouldn't do to either be drunk when there was a task the next day, or – be drunk in the presence of Arthur Pendragon; that would be an invitation for him to tell Arthur how he rather liked his hands. Merlin had a thing for hands and had noticed at dinner last night that Arthur's were perfect...as was the _rest_ of him, although personality wise he 'could try harder' – but – Merlin shook his head and set about looking for the coffee, more than a little pleased to find some _proper_ coffee. He wasn't that fussy about many things, but he was a coffee snob.

"-over there and – oh, Merlin, I see you are not always late." Ewan and a good looking man Merlin hadn't seen before ploughed into the kitchen, ruining Merlin's peace and quiet. He sighed, he'd known it wouldn't last forever but he'd hoped to at least get one coffee in before having to make any kind of conversation. "This is Evan, he's on the camera crew – and yes, I know what you're thinking – Ewan and Evan – _confusing_ – but you can call him Ev. Right, Ev?"

Merlin was thinking to himself that he'd rather call Ewan 'Ew' when Ev grunted and without bothering to reply, pushed past Ewan and pulled a light meter from his bag, holding it up in front of him, muttering something that sounded like 'bloody BBC' before pushing his way back past out into the hallway.

"I'd love a coffee if you're making one," Ewan slid onto one of the stools at the breakfast bar. "Milk, three sugars."

"No problem," replied Merlin, trying not to grit his teeth. Ewan was already proving to be an extreme pain in Merlin's backside; in his head he repeated the mantra 'be nice, be nice' as he began to make the coffee. "Ev – would you like a coffee?" he called, and the other man – friendly now – popped his head around the kitchen door and asked if Merlin would mind making him a tea instead.

"We've got to shoot the 'phone call' scene shortly," Ewan told Merlin. "Normally we would pre-record them like we do the receptionist shots, but this year we are trying for a more 'natural' feel to the show – same reason we're not filming the 'you're fired' walk of shame in advance – too many eagle eyed viewers writing to 'Points of View' complaining that the person fired was wearing a different outfit than they were in the boardroom five minutes before."

Merlin nodded, genuinely interested in what Ewan was saying. He knew that things were edited to suit the show, the need to condense who knew how much footage into an hour for the show meant nothing was what it seemed, but he still liked to hear the ins and outs. "So if the receptionist's part of the phone call is pre-recorded, who does the person answering the phone talk to?" He placed Ewan's coffee in front of him and called Ev to come in for his cup of tea.

Ewan pulled out an iPhone and waggled it at Merlin smugly, "Me of course." He took a sip of his coffee and called, "Ev – you ready to go?"

"All set," came the reply and Ewan tapped a couple of buttons on the phone, and Merlin heard the hall phone ring. "You stay here," he whispered to Merlin, unnecessarily.

Merlin heard footsteps coming down the stairs and a man's voice, "Hello?"

"Sir Uther has asked for you to meet him at his offices in Canary Wharf. The cars will pick you up in half an hour," Ewan said, waiting for the response before hanging up. Merlin heard whoever had answered the phone run up the stairs. "Right, we've got to go and get some 'getting ready' footage now."

Merlin made to down his coffee and head upstairs to brush his hair or something, wishing he had time for more than one cup. Oh God – this was _it_ – the first task.

 _Please don't let me get fired in the first week._

**::::**

Merlin had got to chatting with a few other candidates last night at dinner – Gwen, Freya, Lance and Leon. There hadn't been enough time to do the rounds and meet everyone, but thankfully they had saved the introductions until he arrived so he had a 99.99% chance of remembering a name. Merlin had an excellent memory – once something went in it stayed within reach. He blamed this for his clumsiness, like his brain couldn't cope with holding all the facts and exercising effective co-ordination at the same time.

 _"My name is Merlin Emrys and I'm an artist and photographer from Worcestershire."_

There had been no conversation between himself and Arthur Pendragon after Merlin's hasty escape from his presence in the hallway, although Merlin had felt his eyes on him a couple of times; probably trying to get the measure of all the candidates. Merlin had been glad to escape to bed – too many people, too much all at once. Too much awareness of another person which bad bad _bad_.

Merlin now found himself standing in the plaza at the foot of the Canary Wharf tower with fifteen other candidates alongside him, Arthur Pendragon facing him to his right and Gaius Wilson, show stalwart, to the left – all awaiting Sir Uther Pendragon's dramatic entrance.

It was so hard pretending the crew weren't there, that they didn't have cameras on them from all angles and microphones on their lapels to capture their every word. Merlin thought it was just as well no one had invented technology to capture people's thoughts yet; his thoughts about Arthur Pendragon's backside might not have been suitable for a BBC audience.

When Sir Uther, emerging from his cunning hiding place just out of shot, swept into his place between Arthur and Gaius, Merlin's legs nearly gave out at the nervousness that swallowed him in that moment, again wondering: _what the hell was he doing here?_

"Good Morning, everyone; and welcome to 'The Apprentice' 2010. You've all done really well getting this far, we had over fifty thousand applicants this year. Congratulations." Merlin had the feeling that this was the last pleasant thing Sir Uther would be saying to them for some time to come. "You all know Gaius Wilson by now, he's been my trusted adviser for over thirty years. This is my son Arthur, who is joining the show this year to advise me in the boardroom; Arthur has been working for me for eight years and knows my businesses back to front."

Arthur smiled and nodded welcomingly at the candidates, all of whom had already met him the previous evening. Merlin's tummy did a little flip flop at that smile. Shit.

"For one of you, this is your first and last task – for others this is a twelve week job interview from hell. I don't suffer fools; I expect myself and my team to be treated with respect at _all_ times." Sir Uther smiled and Merlin gulped uneasily, desperately hoping the task would be something he knew about and not _sport_ or something equally unappealing. "Now, you all know why you are here, so let's get on with it shall we?"

He paused and scanned the group in front of him, "Coffee is big business; the consumer is getting more particular about the coffee they are drinking, and a European style cafe culture is growing in popularity by the second."

Merlin's heart leapt. He knew coffee! Coffee was what kept him going, got him through the nights he stayed up in a painting frenzy. Coffee was Merlin's drug of choice.

"I'm splitting you up into two teams, guys versus girls, and I'm giving each team access to equipment that will enable you to set up anywhere and sell coffee to passers-by. The most profit wins, and from the losing team, one of you _will be fired_. You have until 7pm this evening to maximise your profits. Off you go – and - best of luck."

**::::**

Merlin checked his watch. 8.10am. They had just less than eleven hours to make as much money as possible. Each team had been shunted into conference rooms on the ground floor in Canary Wharf to organise their team and get moving.

The eight men all eyed each other warily before the one named Myror spoke up, "Well I know nothing about coffee, _I_ can't be project leader."

Merlin saw Gaius's eyebrow move skyward at that declaration. Of course nobody wanted to lead in the first week, and half of Merlin was thinking that he knew the subject pretty well and he did kind of sell coffee at his gallery but it was such a risk in the first week.

"I think the fairest thing to do, as no one really _wants_ to volunteer this week is to draw straws for it," suggested Merlin.

"That's an...idea," said Gwaine uncertainly, and Merlin thought he was trying to sit on the fence, waiting for the others to respond; typical lawyer.

"I'll do it," said Leon. "I worked in a coffee shop as a student; I kind of know what I'm talking about."

The sighs of relief around the table were almost audible.

"Well, I _was_ about to offer," said a sour looking burly man Merlin remembered as being a car salesman from Chester called Valiant. What in the hell kind of a name was that? Merlin had previously thought no name could suck worse _Merlin_.

About to offer, my arse. "Maybe we should put it to a vote," said Merlin innocently. "You and Leon could put forward your case as to why you want to lead and we'll pick one."

Valiant went red and glared at Merlin, "No, I wouldn't dream of it. Leon offered first."

Merlin smirked and caught Leon's amused gaze. "Okay, first things first – team name," Leon said, clapping his hands together.

Suddenly everyone sprang to life.

**::::**

By 6.59pm Merlin was totally wired; perhaps having coffee on tap was not as good a thing as Merlin had initially hoped. He may just have imbibed a _little_ too much.

 

Thank fuck that was over and done with, it was only the first task and already the killer instinct of some fellow candidates was coming to the fore, something that Merlin had never truly possessed. He could only hope that hard work and intelligence would get him through; the newly introduced cash prize for this year's show would mean he could move his business to new premises and take on another member of staff to help ease the load.

Merlin was quite proud of his own performance and was pretty confident that there was nothing in his day's work that the BBC could edit into something that people would shout at the TV about. Except Will - he would be shouting at Merlin as well as at anyone who did anything against him.

Leon's Blackberry rang on the dot of 7.00pm, and Merlin watched as he closed his eyes and lost some of the tension that had overtaken him during the course of the day and smiled.

"Guys – we don't have to go to the boardroom until tomorrow morning," he announced with a smile of relief to the gathering team. "Wish they'd told us that this morning," he muttered to Merlin from the corner of his mouth. Merlin beamed back at him. Leon was on his 'good guy' list.

After today, Merlin had categorised his fellow team mates as good/bad/undecided guys.

Good guys: Leon, Lance, Gwaine. Bad guys: Myror, Mordred and Valiant. The jury was out on Cenred. Myror was a self-important slacker, Mordred was way too intense and creepy and Merlin knew you shouldn't judge someone by how they looked, but he looked about twelve, didn't talk much and seemed to prefer staring at people like he was trying to pull their thoughts out of their heads. As for Valiant...rude, selfish, bullish, loud...yet strangely charming to customers – but what else did Merlin expect from a car salesman?

Crew members appeared magically from nowhere and packed away all the coffee stuff and all eight members of team 'Sorcery' (Merlin had suggested the name, half-jokingly, not expecting it to stick) were ushered into waiting cars to take them back to the house.

He'd promised Will he wouldn't use any magic because it _was_ kind of cheating. Merlin had prepared a great argument in his head that it wasn't actually cheating because his magic was a natural part of him and you were supposed to be using your natural talents to win, but – _but_ , okay, so he wouldn't use it do anything that would make the difference between winning and losing, but it was part of what made him who he was, and he didn't want to ever let go of that.

Leon was nervously fidgeting in the car on the way back to the house as they sat squashed together on the back seat with an automated camera facing them, moving by remote control. "How do you think we did, we did okay, right?" They had made a decent profit Merlin thought, bringing in over £1000 in fact; unfortunately at least one third down to Valiant who was a natural born salesman. Merlin hadn't been on sales, he'd been a barista for the most part.

"I think we did more than okay, Leon, relax," Merlin soothed from his seat in between Leon and Lance, wishing that the boardroom had been tonight because at least then they wouldn't all be left hanging until morning. He thought it was a sneaky trick letting them believe it would be that evening.

"I'm with Merlin," said Lance confidently. "We chose good pitches, we didn't over order supplies _or_ have loads left over; we made a killing on the soya milk premium...I think we'll wipe the floor with the girls."

Leon bit his lip. "I hope so – I'd be mortified to get fired first week."

" _If_ we end up in the boardroom then I don't think it will be your head on the block Leon," Lance replied, and Merlin was quite impressed that he didn't jump right in there and point out who he thought should get fired, but giving Leon food for thought at the same time. Hmm, Lance was crafty.

**::::**

After dinner most of the candidates retired to bed, or to another part of the house, Merlin wasn't entirely sure. Gwen, Freya and Morgana played cards with Merlin and Lance.

The girls had named their team 'Phoenix'.

By an unspoken agreement they didn't talk about how the task had gone, or who had done what, other than to all agree that they were exhausted but too full of caffeine to go to bed just yet. Total coffee zombies.

"Arthur's with the boys for the next task, he said, not that I asked him obviously, we were just passing the time – and he's gorgeous isn't he..?" Gwen trailed off dreamily. Merlin stared at Gwen then, her flawless complexion, her fantastic skin tone, her soft rounded pretty features and of course, he knew it already and he'd only met her yesterday; her open kind heart – his heart sank a little. Gwen was just the kind of girl that Arthur would go for. They would look great together.

He shook his head, trying to kick Arthur out of his brain; why did he care if Gwen was his type or not? Yes the man was easy on the eye; he was also a taxi stealing arse.

"I found him a little cold," offered Freya, not looking up from her playing cards, biting her lip in concentration. Merlin nodded in agreement.

"I don't know," mocked Lance, his hand flat over his heart, mock pout on his lips. "You've got two gorgeous fellas right here, and you're all mooning about over the _obvious_ eye candy, put in place to woo the viewers. I'm hurt."

Gwen and Freya laughed. Morgana was staring at her cards, totally poker faced, like she wasn't even in hearing range of the conversation. "Are you okay, Morgana?" Merlin asked quietly, the others not hearing him, too busy bantering over Arthur Pendragon's good looks.

"Hmm? Oh, fine yes, thank you, Merlin – just daydreaming there, and worrying about tomorrow." She offered Merlin a watery smile. "I think I'll head up now actually; see you all in the morning."

Merlin watched her go then turned back to the others, annoyed to find they were still talking about Arthur; oh God, he was _doomed_.

**::::**

Merlin wasn't up quite as bright and early as the previous day. He hadn't been able to sleep until very late, having consumed more caffeine than his body could normally process. He'd finally dropped off around half four, and his alarm rudely awoke him at 8.00am. The cars were coming at 9.00am.

By 8.40am Merlin was replenishing the caffeine in his blood stream and nibbling on a piece of toast whilst having a last minute meeting with Leon and the team about presenting a united front in the boardroom.

At 9.00am they were shuttled off to Canary Wharf and Merlin's nerves returned. _Please let me at least last until the second show._ Leon's pep talk had been quite motivating, but to be honest, if the team lost and Leon had to pick two others to come into the boardroom, Merlin couldn't be sure he wouldn't be one of them; tentative new friendship or not, this was a competition.

By 10.00am they were all sitting or hovering in the waiting area outside of Sir Uther's boardroom. Well, they called it a waiting area, and it was that now but it was clearly another large meeting room dressed as reception for TV purposes; Merlin doubted they could fit sixteen candidates, a receptionist's desk and a production crew into a normal reception.

Merlin couldn't remember ever feeling this nervous, not even when he'd been fifteen and plucking up the courage to ask someone out for the first time. She'd said no anyway; Merlin sighed, cursing his stupid brain for picking out that particular memory for comparison, not his finest hour.

The atmosphere was tense and uncomfortably silent as they all waited for the summons into the boardroom.

The phone on the faux reception desk rang; "Sir Uther will see you now," said the pretty blonde nameless receptionist, and the candidates all obediently, in a very British-like manner, formed a queue and filed through the door.

Merlin was in the middle and managed to grab a seat; four seats for each team with the other four team members to stand behind – boys on the left, girls on the right. Merlin had never been so glad to sit. He pulled the chair closer to the table and looked at the two seated on the other side – Gaius of course, and Arthur.

He caught Arthur's eye and was mortified when he felt himself blush, quickly looking down at his hands. What–the-fuck? This was not good, and certainly not healthy, or – _Gods_ Arthur Pendragon had wonderfully blue eyes. _Gah._

The production crew then spent a few minutes getting cameras into place, and Merlin thought perhaps he should have stop biting his fingernails as they were almost non-existent, and was it normal to have one random slightly longer hair on the back of his thumb? He itched to pull it out. From beneath his lashes he found Arthur's hands, folded together atop the table, and was fixated by them instead of his own.

"Alright guys, look lively," called out Ewan, appearing behind Arthur, forcing Merlin to focus intently on Ewan lest his attention slip and give in to the unwelcome pull to look at Arthur some more, well, more than just _look_ ; study intently might be a more accurate phrase. "The cameras are about to roll, Sir Uther will be entering via the doors behind me, and what happens from here on in will all be filmed as 'live', to be edited later. Please try not to look into the camera directly; pretend we're not here."

Like it was easy to miss the cameras mounted above their heads trained on the board members and candidates alike. Or the rig set up on the left of the boardroom table or…

The door at the back, between Arthur and Gaius opened and Sir Uther and his commanding presence entered with a professional smile and a suit worth more than what Merlin made in a year. He sat down in his seat and paused for dramatic effect.

"Right then, welcome everybody; let's get down to business – selling coffee. Boys, you chose the team name of 'Sorcery' is that correct?"

There was a chorus of "Yes Sir Uther" from the eight men.

"Well, it remains to be seen if you'll be weaving any magic. Now – who was your project leader?"

"I was, Sir Uther," said Leon, clearing his throat and meeting the challenge head on.

"How did you go about choosing the project leader this week? It's an unpopular spotlight to be in for week one."

"Well, _someone_ suggested picking straws," spat Valiant immediately and Merlin stiffened as the 'someone' he referred to. "..."

"Leon volunteered," Merlin said before Valiant could get another word out.

"You volunteered, Leon?" asked Sir Uther, looking down quickly at his notes on the table in front of him. "Why was that?"

"I worked in a coffee shop when I was a student, Sir; I thought that experience would come in useful for this task."

"Hmm. Team, how was he as a manager?"

There was a chorus of 'good' and 'really good' and Valiant said, "I think he could have kept control of the team better – Sir."

Sir Uther send Valiant a withering glare, which seemed to fly over his head completely. "Well, don't make a statement like that without evidence -" another glance at the notes. "Valiant Bolton."

"Well he asked Cenred and Gwaine to research the best locations for the pitch, and didn't rein them in when they couldn't make a decision-"

"I think you'll find that we _did_ make a decision and quite quickly," interrupted Cenred smoothly.

"You were bickering like schoolgirls," Valiant replied.

"We were _debating_ ," Gwaine joined in.

Valiant changed tack. "He didn't do anything about _Myror's_ total inability to do _anything at all_ – did he even so much as make one coffee?"

"I was luring people in with the free samples!"

"I was watching you," said Gaius, quietly but firmly. "You didn't do so much luring as you did texting."

Merlin, reluctantly and very privately, agreed with Gaius. Myror had been dead weight. Strangely he did not respond to Gaius's observations, simmering quietly, glaring at the older man through narrowed eyes.

"Leon, what do have to say in response to Valiant?" posed Sir Uther.

"I wouldn't change anything about what we as a team did today; I think we did a good job, and as a team we worked well together, and if Val was unhappy about something he should have brought it up at the time instead of saving it to throw at me in the boardroom _before_ we've even had the outcome."

Go Leon! Merlin suppressed a grin.

"You didn't do anything when I told you that Merlin was drinking more coffee than he was selling!" sneered Valiant, and Merlin sat up straighter, instantly defensive.

"I only had a couple of shots to keep myself going!"

"Merlin, did you drink coffee from the stock?" Sir Uther directed his attention to him and Merlin wanted to squirm.

"Um, yes I did."

"Did you _pay_ for it?" The tone of his voice sent fear up Merlin's spine.

"Well, no, because I thought boosting the profit with my own money was cheating?"

"See – he was _stealing_ – and Leon never said a word!" Valiant was gleeful.

Merlin could feel a big black hole opening beneath him. "I was not stealing – besides – everyone had at least one cup, right guys?"

There was a reluctant murmur from the rest of the team.

"Alright," said Sir Uther. "Let us draw a line under this – girls – did any of you drink the coffee as well?"

More murmurs of assent.

"I'll say this once – if this was an actual business, then drinking from the stock would be theft and completely unacceptable. As most of you are culpable, on this occasion I'll leave this here."

Merlin breathed a huge sigh of relief; that had been close. Valiant snorted, muttered under his breath and crossed his arms.

"Something else to say, Valiant?" said Arthur Pendragon, his first words in the boardroom.

"I _said_ that they were still wasting time making coffee for themselves when they could have been drumming up business." He shot Arthur a 'so there' glare.

"How much business did _you_ drum up?"

Valiant bristled, "I sold a lot of cups of coffee."

Arthur nodded. "Did you not drink any yourself?"

"I'd hardly be complaining about people wasting time if I had, now would I?"

Arthur raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything further.

Merlin was bursting to retaliate, and unfortunately it just came out, " _I_ drank the coffee for an energy boost, it helps keep me ticking. If we're talking of wasting time here – _you_ snuck off at least once an hour that I recall..." Merlin always recalled correctly, the benefits of his super powered memory. "...to have a smoke." Merlin met Sir Uther's gaze, then turned to look at Arthur who was watching him with hooded eyes. Merlin's breath hitched and he quickly looked away, regretting his outburst.

Valiant had probably thought no one had noticed his little fag breaks, but Merlin had. He knew he might need these observations to say in the game at some point. Valiant went red and appeared to be silenced.

"Leon, it would seem that the only person you had trouble managing was Valiant here, the rest of the team seem to respect you and be backing you up." Sir Uther then turned to the women. "Girls, you went for the project name 'Phoenix' is that correct?"

Merlin released a breath he hadn't known he was holding, pleased that the attention was off them and onto the girls. His magic itched to turn Valiant into a frog. He distracted himself with that little fantasy and paid little attention to what was going on with the other team until he heard Sir Uther say, "Arthur, how did Phoenix do?

Merlin allowed himself to look at Arthur now, "Phoenix spent £345.22 and brought in total revenue of £679.50, making a profit of £334.28."

Merlin tried to keep still in his seat – Sorcery had made way more than that – they had won! By the look on the girl's project leader Helen's face she was pleased with their profit.

"Gaius, how did Sorcery do?"

"Sorcery spent £239.18 and brought in total revenue of £1073.44, making a profit of £834.26."

There was a series of 'woot' and 'yes!' from Merlin's team.

"Well done Sorcery," said Sir Uther with a smile. "You are free to leave; there will be a car waiting outside to take you to Champneys spa for some well-earned relaxation and a healthy lunch."

"Thank you, Sir Uther." The team stood to leave.

"Before you go – Valiant, _you_ will be project leader next week, understood?"

"Yes Sir."

They all piled out into reception and found their suitcases – all empty of course, just there for show – and went to find the waiting limo.

No one was talking to Valiant.

Merlin had made it through week one. He pulled out his phone and rang Will to tell him the good news.

**::::**

When they arrived back at the house after a few hours at the spa, Merlin had been massaged to within a millisecond of falling asleep and all he wanted to do was collapse on his bed.

It was through a fog of sleepiness that he listened to the girls team report on who had gotten fired – project leader Helen for insisting on buying way too much milk and cake and then pricing everything way too low on the assumption that they would shift the volume with low prices. She had taken Freya in to the boardroom with her despite Freya being the one arguing against the pricing structure and Vivian because apparently she had given Helen some cheek. For Sir Uther it had been all too easy.

Merlin slunk upstairs, remembered to set his alarm for dinner, and burrowed under his quilt. The last couple of days had been exhausting, and this unwanted _thing_ he was feeling for Arthur Pendragon, it had to stop.

He was going to concentrate on being 100% focussed on getting through the next task without being fired and if he dreamt of blond hair and blue eyes, well, he wasn't going to admit to it. No way.

**::::**


	3. Week Two

**Week Two**

After the first task some of the candidates gravitated into sub-groups and Merlin vastly preferred that term to 'clique'.

Sophia, Vivian and Gwaine liked drinking wine and smoking on the balcony. Nimueh, Morgana and Morgause founded a friendship, based on – well, Merlin didn't really know what, but they seemed to spend a lot of time in the lounge watching EastEnders.

Valiant, Myror and Mordred were united in their individual solitude; in the case of Mordred and Myror, Merlin thought it was self-imposed, for Valiant – well, pretty much everyone hated him so he didn't get a lot of say in the matter.

Cenred flitted around everyone and was quite possibly the biggest flirt Merlin had ever met.

The dynamics were new; anything could change, but Merlin felt comfortable with the people he was spending time with. He had fallen easily into a group with Leon, Lance, Gwen and Freya. These were the people who, whilst clearly _were_ 'in it to win it', weren't going to tread all over the rest of the candidates to do it, unless in self-defence. Merlin considered himself to be a reasonable judge of character, he didn't expect to be stabbed in the back by any of his new 'friends', at least not until (not _if_ ) they made it to the end.

Having survived one task, Merlin found he wanted this more than ever.

"Do you think we're the misfits of the group?" Lance mused, lying on one of the sofas with his feet on Gwen's lap. It was Sunday night and they were all pondering heading to bed because the dreaded early morning phone call was bound to come in the wee hours and then it was going to be a manic couple of days as they vied to win the next task.

Merlin, in a similar stance on an armchair, _his_ feet dangling over the armrest, nodded, "I think we're the hippy faction." The five of them had spent most of Saturday enjoying Camden Market – eating falafel by the canal, trying on silly felt hats, partaking in a few pints and a considerable amount of slightly drunken people watching. "I'm an artist, you write, Freya sells hippy sh-stuff, Gwen makes clothes, Leon designs buildings. We're all trying to make money doing what we love rather than just make money like most of the others."

"Did you read Myror's strap line thingy in the info pack?" Leon said from his position on the other sofa, feet propped on the coffee table. "My first word wasn't 'mummy' it was 'money'!"

"What a dick," Lance said before seeming to remember Ev was on the loose with the camera somewhere in the house and looking guiltily over his shoulder.

"Yeah, but he's a good looking dick," sighed Merlin, and the five of them erupted in laughter. He'd 'come out' yesterday - one pint and a couple of mouthfuls of peanuts in the pub and he'd felt the need to tell the world he was bisexual, which had prompted Leon to do the same and confess that he was too, but had only ever been with one man, one time, after his divorce last year.

Merlin rather enjoyed bonding over confessions.

"I had a lesbian fling at uni," Freya had admitted, adding, "I had no idea what I was supposed to be doing but she was so _pretty_..."

"So did I," Gwen had added. "Well, obviously, not _quite_ , but...I did kiss a girl that one time at the ball..."

It was the best day out Merlin had enjoyed in over a year, he only hoped these tentative friendships lasted the course. He knew this was a competition, but it would be a lonely few weeks if he distanced himself from the other candidates in the way that Myror and Mordred were doing so well.

When he went to bed that night, Merlin was pleased that he had managed not to think about Arthur Pendragon's arse for at least two hours; dammit – congratulating himself on _not_ thinking about it didn't class as thinking about it – did it?

**::::**

Merlin heard the phone ringing the next morning, turned over in his bed and buried his head under the pillow. The pummelling on his door arrived a couple of minutes later, Gwen's voice saying, "The car's picking us up in half an hour – get moving!" The house began to grind to life as the other candidates woke up and began to rush around beautifying themselves. Merlin glanced at the clock and groaned: 6.32am.

By 6.58am most of the candidates, freshly showered and perfumed, were in the kitchen waiting for the car. "How does she walk in those shoes?" Merlin found himself whispering to Gwen, nodding at Vivian's four inch heels in awe.

"I don't know, but I hope today's task requires a lot of running about!" Gwen laughed, and Merlin looked at her shoes, elegant and _flat_.

"Good morning! How are we all this morning?" Ewan came flouncing into the kitchen and without waiting for the expected murmur of response he continued, "I hope you've all had your beauty sleep because this task is going to be three days – two and a half days of planning and executing, then the boardroom on the afternoon of the third day. The cars are outside so, let's not keep Sir Uther waiting."

Merlin found himself herded into a car with Cenred and Valiant. "This is going to be fucking great!" Valiant was like an excited child on his way to the fair. "I'm gonna show that tyrant what I'm made off, you see if I don't."

Valiant seemed to be talking to neither of them in particular, his demeanour slightly maniacal if you asked Merlin; which no one did of course. He unconsciously shifted closer to Cenred and said, "Valiant, you do know the camera is _on_ when you're referring to Sir Uther as a tyrant?"

That earned Merlin a venomous glare. He decided to keep his mouth shut until they arrived at wherever it was they were going. He glanced at Cenred who rolled his eyes and remained silent.

Merlin hoped the awkward car journey wasn't an omen of things to come, and standing in front of Sir Uther again, this time on the stage at the open air theatre in Regents Park, his fears were allayed somewhat when Sir Uther announced the task. The task involved photography, Merlin was a photographer; what could be easier than that?

They had to produce a set of three greetings cards to raise money for Sir Uther's favourite local charity, _London Spaces_ ; a birthday card, a sympathy card and a Valentine card – each card had to be in keeping with the ethos of the charity, which was keeping and reclaiming outdoor spaces for the people of London to enjoy.

"You have today to design and get started on shooting the photographs for this project, by tomorrow afternoon you will be pitching to two major card retailers, and with a third on Wednesday morning; on Wednesday afternoon you will report to the boardroom; team with the fewer sales loses, and from that team, one of you _will_ get fired." Sir Uther smiled coldly at Valiant. "Valiant will lead the boys – ladies, you will need to pick your own team leader this week. Good luck everybody."

"Thank you Sir Uther."

**::::**

"Okaaay team," said Valiant as soon as they arrived at their assigned offices for the two days, clapping his hands together. " _We_ are going to blow this task out of the water."

Merlin felt a prickle on the back of his neck and turned his head slightly; as he had suspected, Arthur Pendragon had entered the room with his note pad and had settled in the corner behind Merlin to observe the goings on. Merlin had forgotten that Gwen had said he would be the boy's team observer this task. That was three whole days. Dammit.

Where was the coffee? Merlin needed one _now_.

"I'm going to be creative director," Valiant continued. "Merlin can take the photographs, okay, Merlin?"

Merlin nodded with a relieved smile.

"Lance and Leon, I need you two to research locations once I've decided on the scenes I want in the cards-"

"Wouldn't it be better if team members who live in London do that as they'll have more local knowledge that we do?" Lance suggested to Leon's emphatic agreement.

Valiant's brows drew together in an ugly sneer, "As team manager I get the final say, and I want you two on that. Myror, Cenred – you're on pitching to the card companies, I need to you to get researching this 'London Spaces' charity, get under its skin so we know what we're talking about when we go in there; and find out about possible companies we could be pitching to as well, I want us to come across like we're the expert in this field and haven't had just over a day to produce these cards."

"Valiant, I really think-" Leon tried, but Valiant clapped his hands and glared pointedly at him. Leon's mouth snapped shut.

"Right, let's get started. Mordred, you're in charge of the budget, stick with me and Merlin. You can be a second opinion on the artwork. Gwaine, could you get on the net, or go to the card shops, find out retail prices for comparative products, contact some manufacturers, find out how much they sell them for etcetera?"

"I think it would be a good idea to have the team involved in deciding what the photos on the cards are going to be," Merlin said quickly, before the team could disperse.

"We don't have time for _that_ ," replied Valiant, holding up his hand to silence whatever objection Myror had been about to interject with.

Merlin snuck a peek at Arthur, expecting to find him furiously writing in his note pad; he wasn't, he was staring directly at Merlin looking almost _intrigued_. Willing himself not to flush again, Merlin smiled. Arthur's lips did not even twitch in response, and he turned his attention to his pad and scribbled something down. Merlin tried to tell himself that the sinking feeling was due to the task at hand, not Arthur's tiny rejection.

In a flurry of activity everyone set about getting started on their part of the task, and Merlin was left at the table with Valiant and Mordred. Arthur stayed in the corner watching them work. Merlin was glad he still had his back to him, though that was almost worse because he could still _sense_ that he was there.

"I don't know what you think of this, I've got a few ideas on what would work well-" Merlin loved this part of his own work, when he had a brief to follow and had to produce a piece of work that would perfectly sum up that idea; like his 'Seasons' series, those prints were some of his best sellers.

"No, Merlin, I just need you to take the pictures, I've already decided on the contents." Valiant paused then added, "I want kids, _cute_ kids for the birthday card – call Leon and tell him to find me two kid models ASAP."

"But-" So it began; Merlin arguing with Valiant over each of his ideas, which were, frankly, clichéd and had all been done before. He rejected every single one of Merlin's suggestions, determined that his ideas were the best. Mordred had a go too, agreeing with Merlin that perhaps a photograph of a gravestone on a sympathy card might not be too appropriate no matter how tastefully shot.

"Okay," Merlin said eventually, aware that the clock was ticking and they were getting nowhere fast. "Valiant, are you going to let Mordred and I input into the contents of these photographs?"

"I told you, I'm the creative director _and_ I'm the project leader on this task. We're going with _my_ ideas."

God he was an arsehole. "Fine then. Let's call Leon and Lance and tell them what we're looking for and grab a coffee before we get started – unless you want blurry photographs of course?"

Valiant went outside for a smoke, whilst Merlin and Mordred drained the coffee pot. "I can't believe he won't listen to us," Merlin said, trying to ignore the camera that was practically in his face, and trying not to come across as one of _those_ people he always called back-stabbing bastards when he and Will were sat at home, safe and warm on their sofa. "This is going to be a disaster. I mean – I _know_ the photos will be good – as good as they can be given the timescale and the subject matter but-"

"He's an utter moron," Mordred said in that creepily quiet voice that never changed pitch. "He doesn't listen to anyone. We've tried, and we can both back each other up on that so-"

"Any of that coffee left?" said Arthur, sinking down in the chair beside Merlin, his thigh brushing against his as he did so, causing Merlin to bite his lip and stare at the desk, letting Mordred reply that they had just drunk it all and that he would run some more through, which he did, leaving Merlin desperately trying to think of something to say to Arthur; were Sir Uther's advisers supposed to be 'mingling' with candidates anyway?

Ah, _that_ was something he could ask him.

"Absolutely, we have to get to know you all a bit, find out what makes you tick, that sort of thing. A lot can be learned from observation, but that's never the whole picture," he stared right into Merlin's eyes then and Merlin's first instinct was to pull back his chair, put some distance between them both. He felt like he was being tested or something. "Based on my observations of _our_ first 'official' meeting I would have said that you were a little lazy yet tactful – you were late for dinner yet you impressed me with your tact regarding my father's eligibility for a bus pass and lack of comment on my status as the show's 'sex appeal'."

This time Merlin could not hold back the flush.

"Of course, Ewan forgets that most of the candidates are picked for their photogeneity and charisma." He dragged his eyes over Merlin's frame. "You, for example, have very striking colouring, the camera will love you."

"Er – thanks?"

Okay, this was getting really uncomfortable now because Merlin's hand was itching to _touch_ , and he had never been so pleased to smell the stale cigarette smoke that followed Valiant back into the room, giving his presence away.

"Are we off?" asked Merlin hopefully.

Valiant nodded and Merlin was out of his chair and had the room between himself and Arthur in seconds.

**::::**

First of all they went to pick up the photography equipment; Merlin had asked if he could use his own and Ewan checked with the producers who said that was fine, so they went back to the house to get it, while Mordred explained to Leon and Lance what their brief was and that they had about half an hour to make a decision whilst they collected the camera equipment.

Merlin wished they had time to use traditional non digital methods, where he could get the photo just right in the dark room rather than playing around on Photoshop. Not that the results couldn't be good, there was just something deliciously raw about doing it all the old fashioned way.

Lance called back after twenty minutes and said that he had the perfect place for the valentine card and the birthday card: an arboretum called Syon Park Gardens in Brentford. They had a tree with heart shaped leaves currently in bloom that fitted the brief.

Merlin worked his socks off that afternoon; wishing he didn't have to take direction off Valiant, but doing the best he could with a bad director. When they stopped for food around 2.30pm Merlin snuck off and took a few pictures of the trees around the arboretum which he hoped would be good as back up if Valiant's plan backfired. Honestly, the gravestone idea was the worst thing he had ever heard; they were off to Highgate Cemetery once they were done at the arboretum.

As he crouched down to photograph a pretty purple flower he nearly fell over when two expensively shod feet appeared in front of him, " _Mer_ lin, everyone is waiting for you." Arthur Pendragon again.

Merlin grinned up at him, his heart speeding up, his fingers itching again, only this time to photograph him. "Sorry, Mr Pendragon," he tried to keep his voice steady. "I'm just getting some back up shots – you know – just in case the others don't work out."

"Call me Arthur – and that's very sensible of you," Arthur replied with a smirk, and Merlin hoped he was on the same page as him regarding this task – that page being 'Valiant is a dick'.

Merlin turned away and snapped the shot before standing and walking alongside Arthur towards the crew. "How come you got sent to fetch me?" Merlin asked.

Arthur shrugged and didn't reply, and they walked in silence until they rounded a corner and Valiant sneered, "Where the fuck have you been?"

Merlin sighed, the bubble popping. "Sorry," Merlin managed, not bothering to mention what he'd been doing as he had a feeling that was just going to send Valiant off again.

"Yeah, well you _will_ be sorry if we lose this task because we didn't get the cards produced in time," he snapped back. Merlin shook his head and decided it was prudent not to reply.

He glanced at Arthur and found him watching him again, turning away as soon as Merlin caught him.

More coffee please.

**::::**

That night the boys team got together to work on the card designs in a room on the ground floor of the house that was apparently set aside for their use. Ev was hovering with the camera to one side of the desk and Arthur sat in the corner again. He'd seen Arthur talking to other team members during the course of the afternoon, making what he had told Merlin that morning the truth, which was fine by Merlin; it meant he wasn't being singled out. That was good, right?

Valiant wouldn't let anyone else near the computer, leaving the rest of the team feeling a little useless and were hovering behind him with Cenred beside him trying to point out that the background colour was perhaps a little dark.

Merlin was more than happy with the quality of his photos; if Valiant refused to listen to team input then the blame could lie entirely with him if this all went belly up.

He didn't think he could watch the train wreck anymore. "I'm gonna make a drink; anyone?" He ended up having to write the drinks order down. Before he left the room he said, "I took some extra shots as back up, the one of the Japanese Willow or the purple flower might be more appropriate for the sympathy card."

"That won't be necessary," said Valiant, not bothering to turn around and look at Merlin. "I know what you're doing you know, trying to cover your back so-"

"I really don't think that's what Merlin's doing," said Lance, shooting Merlin a sympathetic glance. "We _all_ think the sympathy card is in poor taste and-"

Valiant slammed his hand down on the desk. "Would you all shut the fuck up?" he almost screamed.

Merlin glanced at Arthur who was scribbling furiously in his note book, his lips pursed. Merlin slipped out of the room to get the drinks before Valiant starting throwing things.

Gwaine followed him out to the kitchen and began to help Merlin make the drinks. "Maybe we could slip Valiant a sedative, knock him out, what do you think?"

Merlin thought it would be much easier to knock him out with the help of a little magic and, amused with himself, hummed happily as he put the kettle on for the tea, arranging the cups on two trays ready to take back in to the team. If only it were that simple.

**::::**

It was nearly 11pm when Valiant declared that he was happy with the finished designs. Only Merlin, Cenred and Lance were still present from the team, hoping Valiant might see the error of his ways and use one of Merlin's back up pictures instead. The others had all given up not long after Merlin had come back with the drinks and found Myror and Valiant having a stand up row.

Tomorrow morning they would be getting the cards printed up and practising the pitch before presenting to retailers in the afternoon. Now would be a good time to hit the hay and get some sleep. So of course Merlin flopped back on the sofa and turned on the TV, flicking channels until he found an old episode of Buffy. Sighing happily he settled back to watch Spike having a crisis over his inability to have Willow for dinner. He needed some distraction from this anger that was bubbling inside him towards Valiant. He'd thought he was okay with it, letting the man dig his own grave could only be good for the rest of them but it was his blind indifference to anyone else's opinion, and the way he'd chopped and edited Merlin's photographs into something almost unrecognisable frustrated him the most.

Merlin was very proud of his work, even these shots with the God awful direction had been good for what they were. Until Valiant had got his big sweaty hands on them, that was.

"This was one of my favourite series," said Arthur as he sat down at the other end of the sofa. Merlin hadn't heard him come in and immediately tensed. "Then later when Spike realises he's in love with Buffy-"

"We've finished filming and whatever for today," said Merlin, not looking at Arthur, forcing his voice to sound neutral. "You don't _have_ to make pleasant chitchat."

Arthur didn't speak for a moment before getting up again and saying, "No, I guess I don't do I?" and walking out of the room.

"Shit," said Merlin, but Buffy ignored him.

**::::**

Cenred did a marvellous job of presenting the greetings cards to the retailers, Myror not so much: he kept stumbling over his words and Cenred had to step in and save the pitch. Somehow he even managed to make the gravestone card seem plausible; until the retailers bit back, suggesting that it was insensitive and would never sell. Cenred kept his cool when he answered, making up some bullshit answer, backing the product even though Merlin knew he had no faith in it.

Arthur was a silent observer today, no interaction, just keeping to the back of the room making Merlin feel exceedingly uncomfortable.

Before he knew it they were back at the house, an evening meal appearing on the table as though they had house elves. The fifteen candidates crowded round the massive dining table and helped themselves.

"Where's Gaius?" asked Freya, coming to sit next to Merlin. "He said he and Arthur would eat with us while they're staying here."

Merlin nearly choked. "They're _staying_ here?" Arthur was sleeping in the same house as him?

Freya shot him an odd look. "Didn't you wonder how they were both here so bright and early this morning? I asked Gaius and he said it's so they can observe the whole task. They'll be gone again tomorrow."

Merlin hadn't known, seeing as he had been the last person down that morning; his plan to embrace the early mornings was failing fast. He'd just assumed they'd arrived whilst they were waiting for the cars to pick them up. It would explain why Arthur had been there so late last night.

"Ah, here they are," Freya smiled at Gaius as he and Arthur entered the kitchen and joined the candidates around the table. Arthur had changed into jeans and a t-shirt that showed off the light tan of his arms just perfectly.

Merlin's appetite faded and a wave of homesickness washed over him. "Excuse me," he muttered, sliding out of his chair and into the hallway. He sat on the bottom step, fumbled around for his phone and called Will.

Will would talk him down from this stupid schoolboy crush he could no longer deny he'd developed on Arthur Pendragon, Will knew the right words.

"Mer, this is _good_. I was worried it might shrivel up and fall off from lack of use!" Take that back, Will was a total arse.

"Will! It gets plenty of use, thank you very much!"

Will snorted. "Wanking doesn't count." Merlin could hear him trying to control his eruption of bloody giggling. "Seriously, Mer, ever since-" he broke off and the giggling stopped.

"It's alright, you can say it."

"Ever since your Mum died you haven't as much as been interested in anyone. This – Arthur - Pendragon you say?" Merlin grunted back. "This could be just what you need, get you back on the bike if you know what I mean. Okay, so your dick could have stirred for one of the other candidates, less awkward, but I've seen that Arthur bloke in Heat magazine, and, Mer, if I swung that way, I'd totally tap that."

"Will!" Arthur had been in Heat magazine? Merlin's thoughts slipped to 'Torso of the Week' and he gulped. "You're not helping. Even if _he_ did...you _know_ I can't-"

"You mean I'm not telling you what you wanted to hear. I'm just giving my best mate some honest advice!" Merlin could hear Will's smirk emanating down the phone line. "Seriously though, it's been two years; isn't it time you forgave yourself?"

"Oh I'm sorry, when exactly did you qualify as a therapist?" he was starting to regret calling Will now; this was not a path he wanted to go down. "Look, I'd better be getting back; I'll call you soon." As he ended the call he heard Will protesting; and five seconds later his phone rang. Merlin sent the call straight to voicemail.

"Is everything okay?" Merlin nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected interruption of his quiet moment. He looked up to find Cenred standing in the doorway watching him with a glass of wine balanced in one hand.

"Yep, fine thanks, Cenred," Merlin forced a smile. Cenred had been officially but tentatively classified on Merlin's list as a 'good guy' after today. Okay, so he was kind of full of himself, but he was nothing but pleasant to Merlin – so far.

"Call me Cen," he said, holding up the glass of wine as if to toast himself and took a sip. He walked over and sat beside Merlin on the step. "I'll keep you company for a while if you like?"

"Er, actually, I was just going back in for some of that cheesecake before it's all gone," Merlin invented quickly, standing up and moving towards the kitchen. "Doesn't Valiant want a debrief after dinner anyway?"

"Apparently, though I don't know why; the phrase 'there's no 'I' in team must have been coined by someone who worked with him in the past." Cenred followed Merlin back into the kitchen, the two of them laughing together.

"Where've you two been?" teased Sophia, her tinkling laugh like nails on a blackboard to Merlin.

Merlin heard Cenred reply, but busied himself cutting a piece of cheesecake, pointedly not looking at anyone, ignoring the burn of Arthur's gaze on him.

Will was wrong. It wasn't time.

**::::**

The sales pitch the following morning went surprisingly well, in that Cenred smoothly fenced the incredulous responses of the buyer from Hinton's Cards and did the best they could with a bad job.

All too soon it was time for the Boardroom again.

"Sorcery - how was Valiant as a project leader?" ask Sir Uther after his usual spiel about job interviews from hell and someone getting fired.

Merlin had already decided that unless directly asked a question, he was going to keep quiet, so he did little more than grimace when the question was asked; unfortunately amongst the cries of dissent Myror's was heard loudest.

Merlin saw Valiant's jaw tighten, but he didn't bite; however his body language spoke volumes. It was Arthur who spoke up then saying, quite tactfully in Merlin's opinion, that his observations had shown Valiant had had trouble taking advice from the team.

The results were announced and the girls won, their cards being subject appropriate and well designed, making over £7,000 in sales. The boys made just less than £3000 and sold not a single bereavement card.

The girls were sent to enjoy a meal cooked especially for them by Jamie Oliver, the boys were sent the nearby greasy spoon cafe to mourn their losses and discuss what went wrong.

**::::**

What happened after this went by in kind of a daze for Merlin. He remembered going back to the boardroom and Valiant blaming the team's failure on his photographs, to which he had been unable to stop himself angrily replying, "We didn't sell enough cards because _you_ chose the subject matter and _you_ directed the shoot, and _you_ wouldn't let a single one of us input into any of it!"

To which Arthur had backed him up with "You failed to listen to input from your team throughout; blaming the photographs that _you_ directed is in bad spirit," and Merlin's tummy flip-flopped at Arthur's defence of his work; even though he knew it was more an attack against Valiant than it was a defence of him. "It's not the photographs that are the problem, it's the content."

Valiant hadn't backed down, flinging the blame on the rest of the team, anywhere but at himself, and in the end Sir Uther had cut across him, "Enough! Your team doesn't respect you, Valiant, and you're going to have to come up with some better excuses than this if you want to stay in this competition." Merlin had felt the full force of this man's ire for the first time, and he was glad he wasn't the one it was directed at, because – wow – this man had _power_. "Who are you going to being back in to the boardroom with you?"

"Merlin and Myror," Valiant had said, defiant.

"Very well, the three of you wait outside. The rest of you go back to the house and I will see you next week."

Then it had all gone to hell.

Merlin would have liked them to sit outside the boardroom in silence whilst they were being discussed inside it, as he needed to calm down; still fuming at the way Valiant had tried to lay the blame on him. But Myror had turned on Valiant, angry at being picked for the boardroom, claiming he had worked harder than anyone on this task.

Merlin knew that was not true, that Cenred had pretty much carried Myror; however he hadn't been responsible for the team losing. That blame could only lie with Valiant.

Myror totally lost it, and before Merlin had known what was happening, he had Valiant pinned against the wall by his collar, his other arm pushing against Valiant's chest, telling Valiant, "No one fucks with me, do you hear me?"

Then it had been a blur of security men and panicking crew members, culminating in Myror being led from the building, and when it was all over and he and Valiant had been asked to go back in the boardroom Merlin was a bit shell shocked.

Sir Uther looked grim as he came back into the boardroom, as did Gaius and Arthur. Merlin found he couldn't meet Arthur's gaze, as though he was the guilty party and had just been brawling in reception.

"The events of the last half an hour are completely unprecedented on this programme," he ground out, the fury in his voice making his earlier turn seem like idle chit chat. "I _will not_ tolerate bullying and violence in my organisation."

Valiant straightened in his seat and looked as though he was going to say something, but one look from Sit Uther and he thought better of it.

"Merlin," said Sir Uther, and Merlin forced himself to meet his gaze. "Your position is safe; I see nothing in your work or your conduct that would lead me to fire you today."

"Thank you, Sir," Merlin almost squeaked, relieved he hadn't had to deliver his 'reasons why Merlin Emrys should stay in the competition' patter and feeling himself go red at the almost compliment from the man in front of him.

"Valiant, you've gotten off extremely lightly under the circumstances. Make no mistake, were it not for that incident outside just now, it would be you being sent home." Sir Uther looked as though the words were sticking in his throat. "As it stands, I had no choice other than to fire Myror."

"Thank you, Sir Uther," said Valiant smoothly, and a little smugly if Merlin wasn't mistaken.

"Don't thank me. In the five years of this show I've _never_ seen a project leader so totally disregard the input of their team the way you have today. You're on very thin ice."

"I understand Sir. I'll take this chance to prove to you that I _can_ win this, I-"

Sir Uther didn't look convinced. He held up a hand to stop Valiant's speech.

"You're going to have to work three times as hard as everyone else to even have a tiny chance of proving your worth to me," he said coldly. "Now, both of you; go back to the house and I'll see you on the next task."

**::::**

"Merlin, are you feeling OK?"

It was Arthur. He and Valiant had filmed their exits from the reception area, and once that was done, gone back inside to wait for their car, which due to the earlier upheaval had been used to dispatch Myror to wherever and was on its way back for them. Valiant had gone outside for a smoke, the silence between him and Merlin speaking volumes.

Merlin was _not_ fine. He felt a little shaky and badly needed a hug. "I'm fine thank you, Mr Pendragon," he lied, raising his eyes to meet Arthur's, offering him a wan smile.

Arthur rolled his eyes and repeated his words from the previous day: "Call me Arthur." Oh God, did Merlin want to throw himself into those strong arms and let this man soothe away his tension. "And you don't look fine to me."

"No, I really am," Merlin insisted.

"I-"

"The car's here!" someone called, sticking their head around the doorway and catching sight of Merlin. "Merlin, you ready?"

"Yep," Merlin stepped back from Arthur's proximity and wrapped his hand around the handle of his empty suitcase. "Bye, Arthur."

"Goodbye, Merlin."

**::::**


	4. Week Three

**Week Three**

When Merlin got back to the house after the Valiant versus Myror showdown drama everyone was waiting in the kitchen for their return, desperately wanting to find out who had been fired. He saw the shocked faces at the sight of Merlin walking with Valiant instead of with Myror. Nobody had expected to see Valiant again.

Merlin had spent over half an hour in a car with the man crowing over his victory and had no desire to hear it all again. The moron didn't seem to appreciate that it was only a fluke that had kept him in the competition. He also didn't understand the meaning of personal space, crowding Merlin in the car, extolling the limitless wonders of his own numerous talents versus Merlin's (and the other candidates) limited ones. Merlin hadn't been able to get a word in, so it was as well that he hadn't wanted to. He felt physically drained and longed for either a strong coffee or his bed.

When Valiant saw everyone was waiting for them, he strode into the kitchen as if he owned it, opened his arms and crowed, "Come _on!_ Who's the Daddy?"

He was greeted with a stunned silence.

Merlin headed for the coffee machine, cutting through tense atmosphere. This was 'The Apprentice' though, so no one stayed quiet for long; they all turned to Merlin, not Valiant and demanded an update on what had happened in the boardroom.

Valiant shot Merlin a death stare and stormed upstairs; as soon as he had gone, the mood lightened and Merlin exhaled. The man had a way of stressing him out that Merlin hadn't experienced since – well, since a long time.

Merlin stared at the now vacant space where Valiant had been and blinked; tomorrow morning Valiant was going to have an unpleasant surprise when he looked in the mirror. He was a good person, he never used his magic for evil – but a little mischief never hurt anyone.

Ewan turned up then, clipboard in hand, self-importance stamped all over his face as he told them that they would have tomorrow off followed by a two day task the day after. He also told them that having Sir Uther's advisers reside in the house when tasks ran for longer than one day had worked well, and to expect Arthur and Gaius – or Mr Wilson and Mr Pendragon as Ewan preferred to call them - to be staying regularly, "When they are here they must be treated with respect – _try_ to remember what their mission is," he added, glaring at Vivian as he continued, "Also, please refrain from manhandling Mr Pendragon, it doesn't score you any leverage in the boardroom."

Vivian shrugged, waggling her eyebrows, "That wasn't why I was doing it." Some of the girls laughed. Merlin looked down into the dregs of his coffee and sighed. At least he wasn't the only one with a stupid pointless crush.

 **::::**

"Buying and selling, it's what makes the world go round, and it's how I made my fortune," Sir Uther began authoritatively, surveying the room, eyes briefly meeting Merlin's as they skimmed the candidates. "Today's task is selling: pure and simple. Ten items to sell; the most profit wins. You'll have to pull together as a team to maximise the profit you make on these items – and remember – each item has an undisclosed nominal value, so going lower than this could result in a loss."

There was a buzz of excitement in the room now; this task didn't sound too complicated to Merlin. He hoped he was right.

"Arthur will be observing Sorcery and Gaius - Phoenix. I _will not_ tolerate a repeat of the behaviour displayed in the last task, is that understood?" Merlin felt his shoulders sag slightly at his words; he'd been sure Sorcery would have Gaius this time after having Arthur on the last task.

"Yes, Sir Uther."

"Good. Get to it then, I'll see you back here later." Later actually meant Monday, but the viewers weren't supposed to know that.

The teams dispersed into the rooms made available for them where their items were waiting for them. Unable to contain his curiosity, Merlin was first in the room, mooching over the goods.

" _Merlin_ ," said Valiant abruptly. "Before you start sullying the merchandise, don't you think we should discuss and select a team leader?" He was actually quite polite for Valiant, but Merlin couldn't look at him, as the huge red bulbous zit that had _magically_ sprung up on his nose overnight after the last task was rather distracting. He tried to stop his lips twitching, but Valiant saw and narrowed his eyes as Merlin conceded and sat down at the table beside Gwaine.

There were still seven of them left, having only lost Myror so far. Five potential project leaders, and Merlin was quite tempted, however as soon as they were all seated Gwaine said, "I'd like to put myself forward for this task. I'm not from a sales background, but I am 100% focused and I believe I can lead this team to another win."

From the corner of his eye Merlin saw Arthur slip into the room and take a seat in the corner near the door.

"All those in favour of Gwaine leading this task raise their hand," Leon said, and everyone put their hand in the air. "Great, it's over to you then, Gwaine."

"Right," said Gwaine pleasantly. "First of all, after the last task, I just want to say that I appreciate the input of _every_ team member, and if you think something is being done wrongly or could be improved then please speak up; our goal is for this team to _win_. It's not about us as individuals at this stage."

There was a murmur of assent. Valiant folded his arms and glowered; Arthur scribbled in his book.

"First things first, let's look at what we've got so we know at what we're dealing with. Merlin – Lance? Mordred, would you mind writing down everything?"

Merlin jumped to his feet, followed by Lance, feeling like a kid in a sweetshop – it was like getting loads of Christmas presents. "No need to write it down," said Merlin, his hands closing over an A4 list off the top of one of the items. He handed the list to Gwaine.

"Great," Gwaine took the list and skimmed it before starting at the top. "A box of second hand books?"

Merlin picked up the top book and smoothed his hands over it reverently. He loved Harry Potter – it was like the school days he should have had, only preferably without the evil wizards trying to kill him.

"Large elephant bowl." Lance held that up, it was a clear green glass, probably art deco, with an elephant trunk as handles. It was kind of ugly.

So it went on, until they had all ten items in front of them: a set of golf clubs, a pair of size six ladies walking boots, a brand new unlocked iPhone, a small Phrenology head, a medical skeleton, a rug, a stone Buddha head and a signed photograph of Take That.

"Come on then," said Valiant, clapping his hands together. "Let's get _selling_!"

"No," said Gwaine firmly. "We need to know what we're dealing with first; we can't just go out there and accept the first offer we get. We need to know what all this is worth. We've got two days remember – they're just going to edit it to look like it's one for the show; tomorrow is Saturday which might be a better day for selling some of the things."

"Bollocks, every days is a selling day!"

"Do you ever shut up?" Cenred said, glaring at Valiant.

"Don't you talk to me like that you fucking shirt lifter, you-"

"Hey – I don't-" Merlin began, but was drowned out by Cen's angry retort.

"What does me being gay have to do with the task?" Ah, so Cen _was_ gay. Merlin had wondered. Which actually meant that at least half of the rest of the team, to Merlin's knowledge at least i.e. those who were not Valiant, were either gay or bi, which amused Merlin no end as the man either didn't realise he was insulting half of his team.

"Well, how do I know you're not checking me out when I bend over to lift up a box or-"

"Yeah, cos being gay means you fancy every man you meet," Merlin said with a snort.

"Believe me when I say, I will _never_ check out _your_ arse, Valiant," said Cen calmly. "I'm a man with standards."

"You little -"

"Enough!" Gwaine commanded, and the group fell silent again. "Valiant, keep your homophobic opinions to yourself. Now if we can focus on the task at hand? Does anybody know anything about any of the stuff on the list?"

"I know a bit about antiques," Merlin offered. "My Mum used to run an antique shop, in fact – er – are we allowed to ring friends if we think they might know about values?"

He looked over at Arthur for the answer. Arthur looked back at him, face impassive, "You can utilise any resource you have, so ringing your Mother, as an antiques dealer, would be perfectly acceptable."

"Aw, Merlin wants to call his Mummy, how... _pathetic_ ," Valiant taunted.

Merlin ignored him. He had been referring to Will who now ran his Mum's old shop, or his Godfather who was based in London, replying back to Arthur, "Thank you, Arthur." Valiant's zit was going to find itself with a friend by tomorrow morning.

"Great, why don't you take a look and pick out anything you think might be antique then, Merlin?" suggested Gwaine.

Merlin nodded and began to inspect the rug.

"OK, Mordred – could you get on the net and look up the retail prices of the newer items?" Mordred flipped open the lap top with nothing more than a nod at Gwaine.

"I know something about books," Lance offered. "I'll take a look and if there are any possible hidden gems."

"I'll help Merlin," Cenred said with a questioning glance at Gwaine. "I'm a bit of a collector myself." Gwaine nodded proceeded to assign the task of keeping tabs on expected prices and actual sale price to Leon.

"Valiant, could you pull together a list of antique dealers and any fairs that are on today or tomorrow in London?"

"But -"

"Just do it."

Valiant snatched a London Central Yellow Pages off the book shelf and made a show of slamming it on the table.

Merlin decided that the Phrenology head and the elephant vase were definitely antique. The rug possibly was – it was Persian, and they were often very valuable even when old and quite worn. They were going to have to seek expert advice.

"We're not selling one single item until we know what it's worth," Gwaine reiterated, probably for Valiant's benefit.

"This Buddha head," Merlin said, pointing at it rather than attempting to lift it as it was carved from stone. "I don't think it's antique but I think we should check take it to be valued as one just in case. They sell for about £70 new – I've seen them in the shop opposite mine."

"Aren't you just the expert?" sniped Valiant, quietly, whispering in Merlin's ear as he came over to have a look. "'Seen them in the shop opposite' – I'll bet. You've probably got one in your house haven't you? Or should I say Mummy's house as a kid like you probably still lives with Mummy."

Merlin felt his magic rear up, threatening to explode out of him, in a way that hadn't happened in years. He closed his eyes, willing it to retreat back inside, trying to think calm thoughts and taking a deep breath.

"You're such a tosser, Valiant," Cen growled, having overheard, despite Valiant's attempts at keeping his voice low. "Merlin's Mother _died_."

Merlin wanted the floor to open up and swallow him; he could feel all eyes on him now in sympathy. He'd mentioned about his Mum dying the previous day when he, Leon, Lance and Cen had gone to the Tate Modern and ended up having an early evening meal on the South Bank, and by 'mentioned' that was literally all it had been in passing conversation. Now, several pairs of eyes were boring into him, and his magic was threatening to cause all manner of disruption if he didn't get out of there _right now_.

"Excuse me," he said, pushing past Valiant and heading for the door. "I just need five minutes." Let them all think he was going out for a cry, he didn't care. The magic couldn't manifest itself in front of a television crew and as a consequence - the national media. He'd be locked away, probably experimented on or recruited into some top secret MI6 spy programme for people with special 'talents'.

He found his way out of the office and outside on to the plaza, almost tripping over his own feet as he made his way to lean on the railings to look out over the water. He'd always found water calming, and instantly the crawling sensation of his magic trying to escape him from beneath his skin abated and he exhaled in relief. Why did he let that arsehole get to him?

It wasn't Valiant though, he was just a dickhead that soon Merlin would never have to see or think of ever again. It was memories of his Mum that made him feel like this.

Merlin closed his eyes and pressed the heel of his palm to his forehead. His days were numbered in this competition if he carried on like this, and now he was here, he wanted to _win_.

"Here, this should help," said a familiar voice and Merlin opened his eyes to see a Starbucks cup had appeared under his nose. "I'm sure a brandy would work better, but it's not even lunchtime yet."

"Thank you," said Merlin with a nervous laugh, taking the cup off Arthur and inhaling the glorious nectar that was caffeine. "Have you come to drag me back in?"

"They're having a half-hour break," Arthur leant back against the railing and looked at Merlin. "I'm sorry about your mother, when did she die?"

"A couple of years ago," Merlin stared at his coffee, hating this topic of conversation. "It was a car accident."

"You were close?"

Merlin smiled sadly, "Yes, very. She brought me up on her own by herself. My father was never around; I don't think he even knows Mum's dead."

Arthur sighed, "My mother died hours after I was born, I never knew her at all."

Merlin looked at Arthur then, unable to imagine what that must be like, surprised at this man trying to offer him some comfort; it was...disconcerting. "Your father never remarried?" Merlin asked, then realised he should probably know the answer to that if he'd done his research on the Pendragon family, but as he hadn't even heard of Arthur before the other day he supposed he couldn't be expected to know his family history.

Arthur didn't seem to be put out by the question. He shook his head, "No, Father was married to his business. I spent more time with my best friend's parents than I ever did with my own father."

Merlin smiled and looked back out over the water, "That sounds just like me and my best mate, though his Dad was a drunk not a self-made millionaire. If it hadn't been for Mum pretty much taking him in it would have been social services and foster care."

"She sounds like she was a lovely woman," Arthur said, his eyes meeting Merlin's, causing all manner of butterflies to take off inside Merlin's tummy. The remaining magic still lingered close to the surface making his fingers tingle with the need to just run the pad of his thumb over those perfect pink lips.

He stepped back, breaking eye contact by turning his attention to staring into his coffee; he didn't want this – whatever _this_ was – inconvenient and unwelcome collection of bloody _feelings_. "She was, yes."

Arthur didn't reply, turning around and leaning forwards over the railing in a mirror image of Merlin's posture.

Merlin took a huge gulp of his coffee. "We should get back," he said, glancing sideways at Arthur's profile, squeezing his eyes as his breath hitched. "The caffeine has taken the edge off the urge to punch Valiant – thank you." Where Merlin said 'punch' he actually meant 'make him burp slugs'.

Merlin had to admit that there was more to Arthur Pendragon than the prat Merlin had initially taken him to be, which was only going to make things more difficult.

 **::::**

For the rest of the day Merlin kept his distance from Valiant; something that was helped along by Gwaine wisely separating the team into two.

Merlin was with Lance and Cenred, tasked with taking the antiques and books and finding values for them. Merlin took one look at Valiant's half-hearted list of antique shops and shoved it in his pocket, out of sight out of mind.

"I know someone who will give us an honest valuation on this stuff," he said when the other half of the team, and Arthur, had gone off to sort out their items. "An old friend of my Mum's – well, actually, my Godfather – Cillian Garrow. He owns an antique shop in Fulham, and he's an auctioneer – he's like the antique guru of the South East or something."

"Will he know about books?" Lance asked hopefully. There were a couple of old books in the box that looked like they could be worth a few quid.

"I don't think he's an expert, but he'll be able to point us in the right direction."

Cen slung an arm around Merlin's shoulders, "You're a bloody genius. Make the call."

 **::::**

"Merlin – the car is waiting, are you ready?" called Joe, Ewan's previously nameless assistant, sticking his head round the office door where Merlin was still catching up with his Godfather; he hadn't seen him since Hunith's funeral and the old man had taken it upon himself to berate Merlin for not visiting in the intervening years. Merlin had argued that he had sent plenty of emails.

"Yeah – coming," Merlin replied, turning his attention back to Cillian with a rueful smile. "I'll try okay, Uncle Cill? Thanks for your help with all this – and thanks for the, er, other advice." He hugged the old man, waving as he hopped around the counter to join his waiting team mates.

"Was he for real?" asked Lance as they waited for one of the crew to tweak the wires on the in car camera. "He's kind of – eccentric?"

"He's just a bit unusual that's all," replied Merlin, not really wanting to go into it.

"Oh. It's just – he told me my future belonged to the girl with three eyes."

Merlin smiled, he should have known the old man would have been up to his old tricks – he had spent the last fifteen minutes telling Merlin that his destiny – and the 'other side of his coin' – would be riding a black horse. Merlin had learnt to take this with a pinch of salt years ago; Cillian had been telling him the same thing since he was five. "He does that. He's pretty harmless, fancies himself a bit of a psychic I think." Merlin climbed in the car, snagging the window seat for a change.

"Did he say anything to you, Cen?" Lance asked, climbing into the car behind the other dark haired man who settled comfortably in the middle seat.

"Yeah, he said you lot might as well quit now because I'm gonna win this thing."

Merlin snorted and rolled his eyes. "Did I mention none of what he says ever comes true?" he teased. "What did he really say?"

"He said that my truth will be found in the ark. What is that supposed to even mean?" He shrugged. "Come on, the camera's on. I'll call Gwaine and give him the news."

The elephant bowl was worth around £60-70, the rug around £300-400 and the phrenology head was in fact an inkwell, and was worth around £1200. Cillian had offered to add the items to an auction tomorrow as last minute additions if they agreed – and had taken pictures to add to his website to see if there was any interest. When they called Gwaine, he pronounced himself happy with the progress and they agreed to meet back at the house once they had taken the three books of interest to be valued at a place in Wimbledon that Cillian had recommended.

 **::::**

That evening after dinner and after a drawn out strategy meeting with the reunited team, Arthur again in the corner making notes, the whole team retired to the sitting room to join the girls. The girls, however, were still holed up in their own room, and if they all stopped talking at once – which they did at Leon's amused "Shhhh – they're arguing!" they could be heard bickering. Merlin felt bad – Gwen was Phoenix's project manager that week. He hoped she wasn't having too hard a time.

They found the Wii and Merlin let Lance thrash him at boxing before curling up in an armchair to watch. He felt sleepy but he didn't feel like going to bed and suffering his own company just yet; today had brought up a few things that he couldn't face thinking about yet. Watching a load of grown men mock beating the shit out of each other was a suitable distraction.

After a few rounds both Arthur came in and was soon lured into boxing against Lance. Any thoughts Merlin had been entertaining about retiring to bed with his Kindle had flown out of the window as he found his entire focus being drawn to the muscles in Arthur's arms and the cords of his neck as he and Lance fought for dominance. The concentration on his face, the tanned vee of flesh that was subtly glowing where he'd undone his top two shirt buttons and discarded his tie. Merlin honestly thought a show like this should be paid for.

It didn't even occur to him that Lance was an attractive man too, with similarly rippling muscles and tanned flesh – until that was it _did_ occur to him that this was something he _hadn't_ noticed and he had to question why, because if he was going to develop an unrequited crush on a gorgeous straight bloke then why not Lance? Or Gwaine? Or – he glanced sideways at Cenred who was relaxing in another armchair with a beer – why not Cen? He was bloody gorgeous _and_ gay. Or even one of the girls – Freya and Gwen were both cute, Morgana was _stunning_ – but when he looked at them all Merlin saw were pretty faces.

What was it about Arthur Pendragon that made him the one making Merlin's heart beat faster?

Arthur finally beat Lance and Cen took his place, Arthur cricking his neck, a smug smirk on his face at having beaten Lance. He looked magnificent, warrior like – even in his suit trousers and button down shirt.

Merlin knew he should get out of there and head up to bed, it was quite late and they had an early start the next day and he wasn't doing himself any favours, watching 'The Arthur Pendragon Show' like this. His head said 'move' but his body said 'no way' and he remained there, planted in the chair, his legs drawn up under his chin as he followed Arthur's every movement, every twist of sinew and muscle.

Move, move, _move_. Finally, his legs obeyed him and he muttered a general 'goodnight' to the room and left.

He grabbed himself a glass of water from the kitchen, stopping briefly to make small talk with Vivian and Sophia who were just coming in from a smoke on the balcony, and padded upstairs to his room for a long hot shower and his bed.

He fell asleep straight away, his tired body ignoring his whirring brain and distracting thoughts of Arthur Pendragon. Unfortunately for Merlin, his subconscious didn't want to let it go, and he woke up with a raging hard on and a bitter sense of disappointment coursing through him as the dream evaporated into the ether, leaving him wanting more. He moved his hand to his cock, the decision made to deal with his erection, when there was a bang on his door and Gwaine's voice saying, "Wake up team Sorcery –time to sell!"

Dammit.

 **::::**

The second day of the task seemed to speed by; all of the team were busy with their assigned tasks; there was not one item left unsold, and Merlin was confident that they had gotten good prices for everything.

At the last minute Leon had noticed that the Harry Potter book was signed by JK Rowling inside the front cover – and whilst it wasn't a first edition, this bumped the price up considerably. Merlin wanted to kick himself for not noticing; but no one pulled him, or Lance, up on it, so Merlin kept quiet.

They had agreed the previous evening to go with auctioning off the vase, the phrenology head and the rug at Cillian's auction house, but Gwaine had assigned the overseeing of that task to Mordred and Cen, leaving Merlin with Leon, and Lance with Valiant and himself. Merlin vaguely wondered if the huge zit that had now appeared on Valiant's chin to compliment the one on his nose would put customers off from buying from him. Valiant had made a botched attempt to cover them both with some kind of orange concealer.

Merlin didn't feel the slightest twinge of guilt at being the cause.

Merlin and Leon were tasked with selling the ladies walking boots, the books, and the photograph of Take That; which because they knew the approximate values had been easy to sell. Most of the books had been sold for pence to a second hand book retailer, on the way to which Leon had been doing a last minute check and spotted the signature. The old leather bound books had fetched a few quid between them to a specialist on Charing Cross Road, but they were not of any significant value, Merlin suspected the signed Harry Potter was slipped in there to test them.

Arthur had spent most of his day tailing Gwaine, Lance and Valiant, and had gone along to the auction to see how Cen and Mordred were getting along; Merlin did not see him until they had got back to the house.

Merlin showered and changed into his jeans and went to join both teams for an evening meal before their team got together again to debrief. Arthur and Gaius were staying at the house that evening too, part of their observations, though in Merlin's opinion Arthur was getting a lot more involved than Gaius was – last night when Arthur had stayed up playing on the Wii, Gaius had been tucked up in bed, probably with a nice hot cocoa.

Merlin found himself seated between Arthur and Mordred around the dining table, which was typical he thought, with Mordred being the silent unless he's forced to talk type, and Arthur being too close for comfort.

Cen, who was seated beside Gaius opposite, dominated the conversation at their end of the table, "Your mate Cillian went all cryptic on Arthur and Mordred today too, and said to me again that thing about the ark – I mean, is he saying it's going to rain for forty days or something?" He paused for effect and people laughed.

"Oh, what did he say to you then, Arthur?" Merlin asked, amused to think of the crazy old dude throwing cryptic predictions at Arthur.

Arthur, to Merlin's surprise, stared intently at his dinner plate and said, "I'd rather not say."

"Oh come on, Pendragon," Cen pushed, winking at Merlin. "Even Mordred's told me what his was, and that dude _never_ talks."

Arthur shifted uncomfortably, "I'd rather not – it's personal – and it's also a load of-" he paused, as if remembering suddenly that Cillian was a family friend of Merlin's. "It's just superstition."

"Cillian Garrow once told me that true love could be found behind the roses," Gaius joined in, and Merlin looked at him in surprise; he hadn't realised Gaius knew his Godfather. "He was right too – I met Maggie when I went to the florists to get some flowers for my mother. She popped out from behind a vase of roses she was arranging and I fell in love at first sight." His eyes misted over.

"What-" Merlin began, and Arthur grabbed his wrist where it rested on his knee causing Merlin's head to jerk up and meet his gaze. Arthur shook his head almost imperceptibly, silently telling Merlin not to go there. Merlin froze as his wrist burned at the contact. _Oh God_. Merlin dropped his eyes down and stared at Arthur's hand on his arm.

Picking up on the tension, Cen proceeded to tell anyone who would listen that Cillian had told Mordred that 'the answer lay in words', which he thought was ironic given Mordred's non-verbosity, which led the conversation away from prophecy, and Gaius's mystery lady, and onto various candidates experience of fortune tellers.

Arthur was still holding his wrist, and for Merlin, the world had reduced down to that one sensation, those strong fingers encasing his slender wrist; he could hear his own heart beating as the chatter from the rest of the room became a background murmur. He would only have to turn his hand over and he could lace his fingers into Arthur's... Merlin flicked his gaze back to Arthur who was staring intently at Merlin's hand and the oddest sensation fluttered through him, causing him to snatch his wrist back and push back his chair.

"I've just got to make a phone call before the debrief," he excused as he fled the table and the room, finding solace in him favourite spot at the base of the stairs. He felt out of control, like there was an invisible force mocking him, forcing him to feel things he didn't want to feel. Close proximity to Arthur made him want to push the other man into the wall, kiss him stupid, taste him – and he didn't want it, he _couldn't_ want it, want _Arthur_ – or _anyone_.

He rang Will, letting his best friend talk about how business was going at Merlin's shop, how he'd gotten a load of new stock in for the antique shop, answering his questions about how things were going here without bringing up his latest Arthur drama; knowing from the last phone call that Will would just tell him to go with it and see what happened.

Of course, that didn't stop Will from asking, "So, have you made your move yet?"

"I don't know what you mean," Merlin bypassed. "Look Will, I love you, but I don't want to -"

"Merlin, come on, talk dirty to me," coaxed Will. "Tell me all the dirrrty gossip, you know you want to."

"No, Will, I'm really not in the mood."

"Alright, if you're not gonna play I've got stock to inventory so I'd better get on with it," Merlin could hear the sulk from over a hundred miles away.

"Okay then – bye," Merlin hung up, looking up from the keypad and only then noticing Arthur stood in the hall doorway watching him, his face expressionless.

"The team is waiting for you to debrief," he said and turned back into the kitchen leaving Merlin ponder how much of that conversation he'd heard before clambering to his feet and following him. He hoped this would be a short meeting.

As soon as the debrief was over Merlin retreated and found Freya and Gwen in the kitchen and they invited him up to Gwen's room to watch 'Supernatural'. The three of them fell asleep, Merlin waking up being sleep snuggled on either side by both slumbering girls. This was every man's dream, but Merlin felt nothing, not even a twitch. Apparently he wasn't 'every man'.

 **::::**

Team Sorcery won the task my a considerable margin, largely because they had correctly valued the Phrenology head, and a matching item in the girls' inventory had been dismissed by Vivian as a 'piece of tat from TK Maxx' when she had been tasked with finding out its worth, and she had then proceeded to disregard instructions to double check the assumption and had sold it for £20 to a man who was in all likelihood still rubbing his hands together in glee at the bargain he had scored.

Gwen was berated by Sir Uther for not keeping a better eye on the ball; however Vivian took the fall for the spectacular failure for not listening to instruction and losing the team money.

The boys didn't fall out in the boardroom, Valiant kept his mouth shut, probably suspecting he would be in first in line for being fired if their team lost, although Arthur had made sure to mention his 'appalling attitude' and his homophobia before the winning results were announced. Valiant's eyes had narrowed, and Merlin was sure if they hadn't been in front of TV cameras he would have leapt over the table and knocked Arthur to the floor.

Either way, it was another task that Merlin had survived with another one looming on the horizon. He felt a huge sense of relief when their team won, but something felt so wrong, so _off_ and it took him a while to admit to himself it was because of Arthur. Merlin would have, a couple of days ago when Arthur had comforted him with coffee, said that the two of them were comfortable acquaintances at the very least – but now, when Arthur laughed with other candidates before the cameras rolled, when he had a joke with Lance about his prowess on the Wii and a lengthy conversation with Morgana, he studiously ignored Merlin.

It might only have been noticeable to someone who was looking for it, but it was there, or rather _wasn't there_ ; Merlin missed it, but while it hurt and he didn't understand this hot/cold Arthur, he was glad, because he knew he didn't deserve the attention of someone like him.

If he kept telling himself that then maybe the ache would go away.

 **::::**


	5. Week Four

**Week Four**

"Will, I'm bricking it here," Merlin half-groaned half-whispered desperately into his mobile phone, his back against his bedroom door as he'd managed to sneak away from the team before the meeting started. "Sir Uther's just announced that _I_ am project manager – and it's a fucking long task – like nearly a week – at Glastonbury Festival!"

Will snorted, choking back a laugh, "Merlin, stay away from the happy cakes this time!"

"You would bring that up, you arse," huffed Merlin resignedly; he'd known Will would say that. "That was a mistake."

"Yeah, one only you could make," chortled Will, and Merlin could just picture his face; instead of feeling annoyed he just felt a pang of homesickness again. He missed his best friend. "Talking of arses – how's Pendragon Jnr?"

"Will, I'm not talking about this-"

"Stop being so fucking repressed or whatever. Yes, Edwin did a number on you, a fucking epic number I know, but you can't let that piece of scum stop you from meeting someone else," Will steamed in there, subtle as ever. "This Arthur bloke might be nothing, but, Mer, he might be _something_ as well, and you've got to let yourself get to know him and find out."

"Will, how can you make deductions like that when I've only mentioned the bloke a couple of times?"

"There's your answer – you mentioned him. You _never_ do that."

"Okay, fine, whatever – though I think you're setting me up for heartbreak. Men like him don't go for blokes like me, even if they are on the same team – which I'm not convinced Arthur is."

"That's just Edwin talking mate; listen to Will. You don't have to marry the guy, just shag him."

"Will-"

"Will knows best."

"Okay, I'm gonna go now; you're talking about yourself in the third person, you know that freaks me out."

"Will knows best!" Will repeated as Merlin hung up the phone, a reluctant smile on his lips.

He didn't want to admit that maybe his friend had a point.

**::::**

After the third task, they'd spent a day filming fillers then had six days off. Merlin had contemplated going home to Worcestershire, but after much thought had decided against it as that would take him back to his real life. Tempting as that was, he knew he needed to stay in this house, stay in London. If he went home real life would rear its ugly head and he might never come back.

A few of the candidates had taken the time to go home – some had spouses and kids. Morgause went home to Paris and her girlfriend. Gwaine – although divorced – had a three year old son whom he took a couple of days away to go to Dublin to see. _Valiant_ was married with a twelve year old son and had returned to Chester to see them, Freya went home to Norwich and her fiancé Freddy and Nimueh went back to Milton Keynes and her husband and two kids. Morgana had stayed behind; her three year old twins were with her partner Alvarr visiting his parents in California for the duration of the competition.

Cen had stayed even though he lived in London anyway, saying he needed to 'keep his head in the game'. Sophia also stuck around, claiming she was young, free and single and in London and she was going to make the most of it. She'd hooked up with an old university friend who lived nearby and announced she was going to party for a week.

Merlin felt quite boring in comparison and had set about making an effort with those who were still around and he didn't already know that well. Mordred proved to be a brick wall, going off by himself or staying in his room. Morgana opened up some, and by the end of the week she was socialising quite freely with himself, Gwen, Lance, Leon and Cen.

Merlin had tried not to think about Arthur, but it was like being told not to think of the pink elephant; it was there, banging in his head like the bloody jungle drums, Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. Arthur being nice to him, Merlin trying not to be sucked in, trying not to fall under his spell... Merlin being off with him, when Arthur had been nothing but nice to him.

The week off provided Merlin with the time he needed – perhaps even too much time – to get his head around this attraction to Arthur Pendragon. He'd thought maybe he was making too much of it; as far as he could tell, Arthur was just doing his job, and if that meant bringing Merlin coffee when he was upset and grabbing hold of his wrist to stop him saying something inappropriate to Gaius, then it was Merlin's fault if those things made his heart jump into his throat and his mind conjure _more_.

He'd thought he was dead inside, that he would never feel again – not like this. Only Will could reach him, but then Will wasn't just a friend, he was his _best_ friend, more like a brother than anything else because Will had lived with Merlin and his Mum since they were both eleven. Maybe this was why he'd paid attention to Will's words, the essence of which were – forget Edwin, get on with your life, give yourself a chance. If only it were that easy, but, he resolved to at least _try_.

He didn't want it, did not want these fucking feelings – he wanted to win this competition, take the money and get on with his life. This attraction to Arthur made it that much more difficult than it already was, because with Arthur there, watching them, watching Merlin, it made Merlin much more conscious of every move he made, every word that left his mouth, and that hampered his chances of winning.

That was just the business side effects of this inconvenient lust that coursed through him when he saw blond hair and blue eyes; he wasn't even ready to address the personal ones. As long as this all stayed in his head, unrequited, then he would be fine. He would. Totally _fine_.

**::::**

Why, if Merlin was so fine, had those six days without any sighting of Arthur dragged so slowly? He'd been out most days – he, Leon, Gwen and Lance had spent a day at the Natural History Museum, he spent another day at the British Museum with Cen and Morgana, and when Leon suggested they go to Brighton for the day, he, Cen and Morgana went, leaving Lance and Gwen behind. It was now blindingly obvious that Lance had a thing for Gwen.

Keeping himself busy helped, but at night, when everyone had gone to bed after playing Wii, or watching a movie, or a night in the pub, Merlin had been left alone with his thoughts, and lonely thoughts were the most dangerous kind.

With this in mind, Merlin almost wanted to kiss Sir Uther when they were summoned to the boardroom for the fourth task. Almost, not actually - because that would be _gross_. That desire lasted about thirty seconds until the task was announced, the teams were shaken up and Merlin was proclaimed project leader of his new team – Phoenix – and somehow, he'd still gotten landed with Valiant.

"I've arranged for two vans in prime catering locations at Glastonbury Festival; you have the rest of today to decide what you are going to sell, source the stock and load it up – tomorrow morning you'll be off to the festival and I expect you to run this van until Sunday. The rules are simple – sell, sell, sell - most profit wins."

Merlin's heart sank and he'd stopped listening to whatever else Sir Uther then went on to say. Fuck, fuck, fuck – this was a mammoth task – _six¬ days_ at the Glastonbury Festival, _six¬ days_ of him having to be the boss. If he had been alone he would have been banging his head against a wall; as it was he simply moved over to the other team and cursed inwardly at the mammoth task in front of him.

"Well, good luck everyone, I'll be seeing you all again in one week's time when one of you _will_ be fired."

Merlin had never felt so nervous; and upon arriving back at the house he'd immediately snuck off to call Will amidst the chaos.

**::::**

Now he'd made it back downstairs to the Phoenix meeting room and found that Arthur was their observer, he felt physically sick. Arthur had moved teams, but so had Merlin. For those few moments they were alone in the room, and aware that Arthur seemed to have been ignoring him the last time he saw him, Merlin tried to make the effort now, "Morning, Arthur, how are you?"

Arthur's – _devastatingly_ – blue eyes widened fractionally at Merlin's polite friendliness, "Good thank you, Merlin." He hesitated before asking. "How was the week off? Did you go home or have visitors down?" His eyes flicked towards the door as Morgana swept in and sat at the table in the middle of the room.

"Hello, Morgana," he added pleasantly, smiling her as she settled herself down at the table beside Merlin.

Morgana narrowed her eyes as she nodded with a forced smile, "Arthur."

"Arthur was just asking what we got up to this last week," Merlin supplied for Morgana's benefit.

Merlin was surprised when Morgana answered the question. "A few museums and art galleries, couple of trips to the pub, that kind of thing. A couple of us went on a day trip to Brighton." She grinned evilly at Merlin. "Merlin fell in the sea."

"What she means to say, Arthur, is that she _pushed_ me in," he glared back at her, pretending to be furious. "That's the last time I ever go anywhere near water when you're around!" He'd been soaked through and had had to go and buy some new jeans to stop the squelching.

He turned back to Arthur and the smile fell off his face. Arthur was staring so thoughtfully at him that his breath stuck in his throat and he froze, a rabbit caught in Arthur's headlights.

Morgana coughed and Merlin started, glancing apologetically at her as she raised a questioning eyebrow. Merlin didn't know what else to do; he didn't have an answer for her unspoken question, and certainly not in front of Arthur. Thankfully he was saved by the arrival of the rest of the team and the crew; he could justifiably turn his attention away from Arthur and concentrate on winning this task.

Merlin's team consisted of himself, Morgana, Cenred, Gwen, Morgause and of course the dreaded Valiant. It was quite unsettling; he'd got used to working in the team with all the men, he knew what he was getting with them, but now it was all mixed up and there were unknowns here. He knew Gwen and Morgana well enough now, especially after this last week, but he'd never worked with either of them, and Morgause, well, he'd not had very much to do with her at all, in fact he found her quite cold and unapproachable. Oh _God._

"Okay then," he began once the cameras were rolling. "I'm project leader on this task, and we need this win. So I'm going to start as I mean to go on." He took a deep breath, shoving his nerves into a box and hammering it shut, trying to channel...Will – yes, he'd channel Will, because Will took no shit off anyone, and he'd have kicked Valiant into the end of next week by now; and Merlin envied his ability to just take everything in his stride. He could do this, he could. "The final say goes to me – if you've got any problems with anything or with each other – bring them to me. This is a really long task, and we've got to get along for it to work."

He paused and looked around the table, minutely aware of Arthur writing something in his note book as his gaze skimmed over him. He was surprised the team were being as quiet as this – from what he'd heard from the girls about their team, and what he knew first hand of Valiant, there was normally some kind of dialogue going on by now. "Valiant – I know we haven't always seen eye to eye." _Because you're a wanker_. "But I expect you respect my decisions and take direction from me, is that understood?"

Valiant nodded and didn't even attempt an argument. Early days, Merlin knew, but he began to feel bolstered and more confident.

"Good – now we've got that out of the way, two questions; does anyone have any catering experience and, have any of you ever been to Glastonbury Festival before?" The quiet ended there as they all launched into dialogue about their festival and catering experiences.

Merlin chanced a glance at Arthur, and meeting his eyes, risked a tentative smile. Arthur returned it.

**::::**

Their campsite was right in the middle of the festival, a special partitioned area next to the campsite for the stewards and other caterers and van holders; however this was a special 'Apprentice' cordoned off area, containing five sparkly new trailers, and several less shiny ones for the rest of the crew.

It turned out then when Merlin had zoned out when Uther was speaking earlier, he had missed the part about how Gaius was unavailable this week, but Uther's other trusted employee, Kanen Alexander was taking his place. One look at him and Merlin was glad to be under the watchful eye of Arthur again. Better the devil you know.

When the sleeping arrangements were decided, it also transpired that Arthur and Kanen, plain and simple, loathed the sight of each, hence Arthur arguing with one of the crew and refusing to sleep in the same trailer as him.

Kanen had merely sneered and shrugged, picking up his bag and stalking into the nearest trailer, "I don't care where he goes," he threw behind him. "I'm sleeping in this one."

There were three trailers for the men, supposedly one for Arthur and Kanen and two for the remaining seven male contestants. The crew were housed in slightly less sparkly caravans than the 'stars', something Merlin heard Ewan moaning to Joe about when he thought no one was listening.

"Well, if he's picking, I'm in this one – gonna join me, Merlin?" Cenred headed towards the furthest trailer, winking at Merlin as he went. Merlin sighed. Cen was being a little too flirty lately for his comfort; he hoped he wasn't reading more into their friendship than was actually there, or ever likely to be.

Merlin looked pleadingly at Lance and Leon, but Arthur spoke up, "I'll go in with Cenred and Merlin," he declared, effectively making Merlin's heart pound in both fear and excitement. He hoisted his bag over his shoulder and went to unpack, thankful to note that these were no cheap trailers – bigger than Merlin's first flat – they had three bedrooms, although Merlin ending up with the teeny room with a bunk and space to stand and that was it – it didn't matter, it was his own room; for a while he'd been worried he'd be bunking down in the same room as Cen and Arthur. There were so many ways that that would have been a disaster Merlin didn't even want to think about it.

He threw his bag on his bed and went back outside to collect the team up to head over to their catering van; it was time for training, time he started _managing_ and hopefully, winning.

**::::**

Glastonbury Festival: totally unique as festivals went, seemingly miles and miles of activity, buzzing with all kinds of people, a sea of tents, vans, noise and people. It was only Wednesday and the place seemed full to bursting. Merlin hoped they had made the right choice of food stuffs to sell, and more importantly, they had enough of it – because if they ran out of stock it would be as much of a disaster than if they had brought too much.

They could start selling anytime from 6pm. Merlin was confident that they would be prepared and ready. Okay, so no one in the team other than Gwen had got any recent catering experience; Gwen's father ran a pub, and Gwen still helped out at times and conveniently had a load of certificates to her name - COSHH and something else with far too many initials that meant nothing to anyone. Merlin had worked as a waiter when he was a teenager for a while, but that mostly involved carrying food not making it, and there was a small burgeoning cafe at his workshop back home, but Merlin had Beatrice running that and wasn't directly involved himself. Cen apparently liked to cook, which was a start. Everyone else was on the same page – they cooked for themselves at home, but it wasn't a great love or interest.

Merlin supposed it could be worse. They'd decided that in order to maximise their strengths and not get in a total mess with this task, the best way to go forward would be to keep it simple. Therefore, their catering van would provide five different menu choices, plus two breakfast choices, full stop. With it being Glastonbury he knew that vegetarian food went well, so it was a vegetarian food stand and the rules were simple – every base item was suitable for vegans; the bread, the burgers, the falafel etcetera – and then customers could add cheese and mayo which could be vegan or 'normal'. Their five main menu items were – veggie burger, falafel, hummus pita, veggie hot dog, veggie curry and rice; the breakfast choices were porridge and a veggie bacon sandwich. As well as this there were canned drinks, bottled water and a coffee machine – plain, boring, easy to make but tastes nice filter coffee. Merlin would be selling his soul to the devil if he stooped as low as instant coffee.

Merlin had put Cen on working out the costs, needing to keep it competitive, deciding on a base price that they couldn't go below with the view to increasing prices based on the average prices when they got there. He put Gwen in charge of training the team in what they needed to be doing on the cooking side of things and decided to wait until they were set up before assigning other specialist roles.

Another decision he made, which he felt was important, was a rota. They were expected to be open from 7.00am until 1.00am Thursday until Sunday and there were just six of them. Too many cooks could be a disaster, and he didn't want everyone falling out from being under each other's feet all the time – he wanted the team (and if he was honest, himself) to be able to find time to see some of the acts – so he arranged it that they would all work on Wednesday as 'training' and then the rota would kick in.

It was going well, one day down and only four and a half to go.

It was going to be a long few days.

**::::**

Time went much faster than Merlin had anticipated, which for Merlin meant light at the end of the tunnel. Business was good, and he'd patted himself on the back for reading the weather forecast before setting off and deciding to order a shed load of bottled water; because now they were selling it for £2.50 a bottle from a cooler during the middle of the day and the money was rolling in.

Merlin's main concern was that they were going to run out of stock by Sunday and that as a result, the finger of doom would point at him and Sir Uther would say, 'Merlin, without regret, you're fired,' and Merlin would have to say, proudly, 'Thank you for this great opportunity,' and sidle from the room with his tail between this legs, trying not to blow the place up with his misplaced magic – taking one last look at Arthur Pendragon before he was relegated to only seeing him on TV or in the papers.

That thought just made him feel hollow.

Despite them sleeping in the same trailer, and Arthur observing Merlin's team, because of shifts and Merlin avoiding the trailer except when he was going back to sleep, he managed to avoid being alone with Arthur until Friday morning when Merlin forced himself to get up around 9.00am to go in search of coffee. The shoot wasn't big enough to warrant a catering van for the crew, so there was a coffee filter machine in the trailer; he'd assumed he would be alone as Cen was on the early shift and the previous morning Arthur had been out observing the early shift on the van.

He had not expected to find a shirtless Arthur sitting at the table with a cup of coffee and a newspaper. Merlin turned away quickly, determined not to be caught looking at the unexpected delight before him.

"Morning," he yawned, glad he'd taken to wearing an old t-shirt with his bottoms when he'd joined the show – no one needed to see _his_ half naked torso on national TV. He pottered over to the coffee and poured himself a mug and sat down at a right angle to Arthur. "You've been kind of quiet lately – is something the matter?" and he didn't know what possessed him to say that, he hadn't even been aware that he'd been _thinking_ that, or that he'd noticed if Arthur was quiet or out of sorts.

Apparently he _had_ noticed.

Arthur grimaced, and from the expression on his face Merlin was fully expecting a rebuttal, but Arthur surprised him when he answered, "Kanen's the matter," he laughed bitterly, running a hand through his hair, Merlin's eyes following hungrily before he caught himself and decided the bottom contents of his coffee mug were infinitely more interesting. "Tomorrow was supposed to be the day I married his daughter. He wasn't too pleased when we called it off. My father is just trying to remind me who's the boss by sending Kanen in Gaius's place – Kanen is one of his oldest friends, and this marriage was to be the culmination of years of plotting between the two of them."

Merlin had forgotten that Ewan had mentioned that Arthur had been engaged. "Oh, I'm sorry your engagement ended," he said, not meaning a word of it and not even blinking when he admitted that to himself.

Arthur snorted, "I'm not. Georgia's a nice girl; but she was marrying me to please Kanen, I was marrying her to please Uther – we eventually decided to please ourselves in the end, but not before booking a venue, sending out invites and raising a whole load of expectations." He looked right at Merlin and added with a sigh, "It's kind of how I ended up doing this actually; trying to placate my father in his disappointment."

"Marriage should never be for convenience," Merlin said with a half-smile.

"Tell that to Kanen; if he can find a way to insult me and make my life difficult he will. I've 'disgraced' his daughter's honour apparently. What a joke."

Merlin turned to look out of the window, quickly blinking and sending Kanen wave of magical energy, before turning back and fixing Arthur with his gaze, "Marriage should always be for love; you have to be with that person forever - obligation shouldn't come into it."

Arthur was looking at Merlin as though he'd never seen him before. "Wise words for one so young," Arthur quipped. "Anyone ever come close to getting you down the aisle? Is Will-?"

Merlin felt his smile die as his thoughts slipped to Edwin, and that was a path he didn't want to be traversing ever again, especially not now, and certainly not with Arthur. "Will? No! Will's my best friend," he said, draining his coffee mug and standing up. "I'd better get myself ready, got an eight hour shift today."

Arthur just looked at him, looked _into_ him, like he could see Edwin, see what Merlin was avoiding. "I'll see you later," he said, walking calmly back to his room and closing the door before sinking onto his tiny bed and banging his head against the wall. He was so fucked.

**::::**

When Merlin's shift ended at 9.00pm, he was exhausted, and all he really wanted to do was go back to the trailer and collapse onto his bunk and sleep. This was Glastonbury though, there were a million and one things to see, and he couldn't hide out in his room all the time.

Another thing he couldn't do again - he couldn't keep on rejecting Arthur. Arthur was being friendly and Merlin was cutting him off at the pass every time. He knew he had his various reasons for not wanting to get too friendly with him:

Number one being he fancied the fuck out of Arthur.

Two, fancying the fuck out of someone again after so long was bloody scary.

Three, he didn't want to fall any further under that spell, unrequited heartbreak and all that – other than being what it said on the tin e.g. _heartbreaking_ , it wasn't what he needed right now when he was trying to win a pretty serious high stakes competition.

Four, Arthur asking him about previous relationships the way he had this morning sent Merlin to a very bad place; and again, that was not something he wanted to be dwelling on right now.

Arthur had been doing observation on and off all day, and he was there now – the camera crew weren't with them at the moment, and Merlin decided to right this wrong and stop over analysing every-fucking-thing relating to Arthur and just go with it.

"I'm off to the Avalon Stage, one of my all-time favourite bands is on later – anyone up for it?" he asked the question across the members of his team who were on the shift with him – Gwen, Morgause and Cen – pointedly glancing at Arthur as he asked and smiling what he hoped was a friendly 'let's hang out smile'.

Morgause turned him down immediately, she was going back to her trailer to ring her girlfriend, Cen whipped out a listing guide for the festival and said, "Sorry Merlin – Gorillaz are on the main stage." To which Gwen said, "Oh I love them!" shooting an apologetic smile at Merlin, musing, "I wonder if Lance knows?"

It had been difficult to keep tabs on members of the other team whilst at the festival, as even though they were sharing trailers, their working pattern seemed to be different; Merlin hadn't seen Lance or Leon once since Wednesday, and had only seen Gwaine for five minutes that morning in the bathroom and he'd seemed exhausted as he headed to his team's van for the mid-morning rush.

"I'll keep you company, Merlin," Arthur offered, and if Merlin's heart did a little dance at that reply, Merlin was keeping that to himself.

"Great, thanks, Arthur," Merlin knew he was beaming, but he wasn't even going to try to tone it down, it was kind of like his way of making amends. He just hoped Arthur had got the hint, 'thou shalt not ask Merlin about past relationships'.

Merlin hung about a bit updating the late shift – Morgana and Valiant – on how things were going, hid out back and changed into a clean t-shirt, and went to join Arthur who was waiting for him at the side of the catering van, keeping out of the way of the river of people flowing through in two directions.

"So, who are we going to see?" Arthur asked as they walked towards the Avalon Stage, being jostled in all directions by faster moving traffic.

"I doubt you will have heard of them, they were a favourite of my Mum's, I kind of grew up listening to them," Merlin said wistfully. Talking about his Mum to Arthur was okay, he didn't talk about her enough and maybe that was part of the problem. "They're called New Model Army."

"I know about Oliver Cromwell and the parliamentarians, not so much about a band of the same name," Arthur said apologetically.

"You know your British history then?" Merlin replied.

"Yes, I studied history at university – well, history and business."

"I get the impression you preferred history over business?" Merlin guessed.

"I wanted to carry on with it, do a Masters, then maybe teach – I don't know – it never happened. My father happened instead." Arthur looked sad, and Merlin didn't know what to say; it was always tricky talking to another person about _their_ family members, as they could say what they liked, but for someone else to come in and agree with them was often seen as an insult. Like the way he could say what he wanted about Will – but when someone else tried it, they often found themselves with warts, or temporary baldness – nothing life threatening, but enough to put them off track for a couple of days.

He took the risk. "Your father was strict with you?"

So it went on; they talked about their fathers, or in Merlin's case lack of, and about Merlin's photography and stopped for food on the way to the Avalon when Merlin suddenly realising his stomach was protesting but not being heard as one thing Glastonbury Festival was not was _quiet_.

When they arrived at The Avalon Stage the previous act was just finishing, and there was a stream of people leaving, and another of people arriving, waiting to take their place in the crowd to see the headline act.

"Come on," he said to Arthur, cocking his head towards the side of the stage. "Best spot is always near the middle at the side." He had to force himself not to take Arthur's arm and lead him down to the desired spot.

"What kind of music does this band play?" Arthur asked, the noise levels meaning he had to lean in and speak directly into Merlin's ear, his breath ghosting over Merlin's lobe, sending shivers through him.

"I'm not sure of the genre really, kind of post punk in the early days, they've mellowed out now but they're bound to play some of the classics, and when they do, best to keep out of the mosh pit."

Arthur nodded and looked around them at the burgeoning crowd of fans all waiting for the headline act. "I see a lot of facial hair," he said and Merlin laughed. "That's your average NMA fan. Was thinking of growing a beard myself but-"

"No! Don't do that, you're way too-" Arthur broke off, red tinting his cheeks. "Er – what I mean is, you're too young for a beard."

Arthur was looking fixedly at the stage, and Merlin shot him a confused glance, trying to think up a suitable reply, when the lights dimmed for a moment and the crowd went wild as the opening notes of 'Vagabonds' drifted through the warm evening air and sent Merlin's brain onto a nostalgia trip, one where he was with his Mum at his first ever festival – well, the first one he remembered anyway, and they'd come to see New Model Army then, his mum singing along, full of life and joy.

He brushed away a stray tear that threatened to fall and unthinkingly grabbed Arthur's arm, "This is going to be amazing!" he shouted, bouncing on his toes as the band came on stage and the drums kicked in. He was lost then for a while, confusing thoughts of awkward conversations with Arthur pushed out of his head as he sang along joyfully, regularly checking out of the corner of his eye that Arthur was okay. He seemed engrossed in watching the band, a small smile playing on his lips.

Somehow they gravitated so that Merlin was standing slightly in front of Arthur, to his left, and when the moshers got over excited and the ripple effect caught Merlin unawares, he fell back into Arthur, Arthur stilling him with a steady hand on Merlin's hip; a hand that remained there after the fact, sending tingles of awareness spearing through Merlin. He wanted to sink back into Arthur, turn around and kiss him, press his lips into Arthur's, taste him... He wondered if Arthur were even aware he still had his hand curved around Merlin's hipbone.

Before Merlin was ready, the band were leaving the stage, thanking the crowd; and Merlin waited, bated breath – they _had_ to come back for an encore. They couldn't leave without singing his favourite – his Mum's favourite – song.

He wasn't disappointed, the band reappeared and the slow melody began, lulling Merlin into a happier place, his Mum singing along to this song in their living room whilst she did the ironing and Merlin did his homework. She'd always said this was her favourite song, despite the fact that it made her sad and reminded her of Merlin's Dad, who had taken off for the bright lights and barely been seen again– "...I guess you'll never read these letters that I send  
from the valleys of the green and the grey..."

"Merlin?" Arthur's voice came from a faraway place. Arthur stepped in front of Merlin then, waved a hand in front of his face. "They've finished-"

Merlin's head snapped up, too late to hide the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes; he furiously wiped them away, annoyed with himself for doing this in front of Arthur of all people, normally only Will saw him like this. "Sorry."

"Hey, don't be sorry. Thinking of your Mum?"

Merlin nodded, looking at Arthur from under his lashes, thinking how god damned gorgeous he looked right now, how he could make good on his earlier fantasy of just leaning in and kissing him. What would Arthur do if he did that? Merlin unconsciously licked his lips, his eyes locked on Arthur's, and he was swaying forwards, oh so slightly, and Arthur moved his eyes to fix on Merlin's lips before returning his gaze to Merlin's, his hand still on Merlin's hip somehow.

Merlin heard Will's voice in his head, 'You don't have to marry the guy, just shag him.' Oh God.

Merlin saw Arthur swallow and his pupils dilate...and Merlin's BlackBerry vibrated in his pocket, bringing him crashing kicking and screaming into reality.

He dug his hand into his jeans, breaking eye contact with Arthur and stepping back, looking at the phone and seeing it was Valiant calling, "Hello?"

"Get your fucking arse over here Merlin; some bint's complaining there was a hair in her falafel and she's-"

"I'm on my way," Merlin cut him off, hanging up the phone, throwing an apologetic glance at Arthur, as though they hadn't _possibly_ just been about to kiss. "Valiant – I'm needed over at the van."

"Oh, right then – I'll come with you."

"No, it's fine – I'll see you later yeah?"

"Okay, I'll see you back at the trailer?"

"Yeah, later." He disappeared into the crowd, almost running in his need to put a distance between them, thankful that Valiant was too much of an idiot to deal with a complaining customer by himself. If he hadn't been – if Valiant hadn't called when he did – would Arthur have kissed him back?

**::::**

The rest of the weekend flew by. Merlin had waited until he was sure Arthur would be in bed before going back to the trailer on Friday night, and had managed to successfully avoid alone time with him, despite them sharing a trailer. Now it was Sunday, and Merlin was exhausted from the long hours and the extra effort it took him to avoid Arthur, and he wondered why he was even bothering with that, because when Arthur was there – observing or whatever – he courted Merlin's eye as sure as Merlin avoided his.

His brain refused to function. He couldn't think about Arthur and what it all meant _and_ run this team and win this task. He had to put the task first.  
T  
hey had run out of falafel by late Sunday afternoon, and by mid-evening much of the stock was running out, eventually they could only offer veggie burgers and bottles of water. Merlin gnawed his lip; worried they had run out too early, that not having enough stock meant less money, less profit and his arse on the line in the boardroom.

Valiant kicked off about it and said he wanted it documented that he had thought they should bring more stock, which resulted in he and Merlin having a stand up row, in front of Arthur and Gwen, Valiant calling Merlin a useless fag, Merlin suggesting he keep his homophobic remarks to himself and Gwen trying to interject; but an angry Valiant, all bulging eyes and curling lips, and suddenly Valiant was bearing down on Merlin. Merlin was just thinking of a way to magically deflect him without being noticed when Arthur was there, pressing Valiant into the side of the van, "I _told_ you to lay off."

Valiant snorted, "Aw, getting all protective over your little boyfriend again, how touching." He turned his beady eyes on Merlin. "Did you know Arthur here told me to play nice with you?"

Merlin didn't know. Hadn't known. He looked at Arthur then, seeing the confirmation in his eyes, and at Gwen who really didn't seem like she knew where to look. It was a warm summer's evening but Merlin suddenly felt cold.

He sighed and closed his eyes, pushing back the magic that bubbled under his skin, counting to ten before opening them again and saying, "Close the van down. Valiant, take the cooler and try to sell the remaining drinks for half price. Gwen, when Cen comes back can you clean up and start to close it down – I'll be back as soon as I can." He spun on his heel and walked away, fuming.

He wasn't fuming at Valiant being such a wanker – that was no surprise. Arthur. Arthur had thought Merlin needed protecting from Valiant, thought he couldn't cope with him by himself, Arthur thought Merlin was a pathetic lightweight in need of protecting. How many rules had Arthur broken by doing that? He was supposed to be observing, but that was way beyond. All it would take was one word in the boardroom from Valiant and it could all go belly up – for both of them.

He managed to avoid Arthur for the rest of the day, only seeing him from a distance as he climbed into a car with Gwen and Cen to head back to London.

**::::**

They thankfully had the rest of Monday off to rest before they faced the boardroom on Tuesday. Arthur wasn't at the house. Merlin spent time with his team having a debrief, Valiant again unusually silent. When the meeting had finished Merlin had stayed in the meeting room alone, his chin propped in his hand, his mind spinning furiously over the events of the last few days. Merlin felt the task had gone well; aside from the odd few heated words from tiredness and stress, and Valiant being his usual dickhead self, the team had worked well together. Okay, so they had pretty much run out of stock towards the end and Merlin had made a slightly hasty decision to close early, but really, what was the point of staying open when you had nothing to sell – and if Sir Uther had a problem with that then Merlin had an answer.

Arthur – he was something else entirely. Something had definitely shifted between them, and Merlin couldn't stop thinking about the almost – if he squinted and held his breath – kiss, and the feel of Arthur's hand on his hipbone, his breath tracing his ear. Then he thought of Arthur warning Valiant to go easy on him, and it stung. But when he really thought about it, what was the difference between that and Kanen's sudden need to pee every five minutes that had occurred directly after Arthur telling him how Kanen was trying to make his life difficult? He was trying to protect Arthur; it seemed Arthur was trying to protect him.

A warm feeling curled in his tummy before sinking as he recalled what he had done upon finding out Arthur had done this? Blanked him again. He hoped he would get a couple of minutes tomorrow to apologise; Arthur didn't deserve the way Merlin was acting towards him.

**::::**

"So, Phoenix – Merlin was your project leader, how did you find him?"

Merlin was pleased to hear a murmur of 'good' and 'excellent' and the predictable silence from Valiant.

"Merlin, tell me why you picked vegetarian food for your business," invited Sir Uther, and Merlin felt himself melting under the television lights, and the sudden pressure of the camera being on him; this was it, this could be the day he got fired. He found himself glancing at Arthur, who was looking right back at him. His professional expression was slotted into place; Merlin sighed.

"We discussed a few different options before we went with vegetarian; in the end we went with it because of the kind of festival it was – Glastonbury still attracts the earthy hippy types as well, and I also felt that Vegetarian food appeals to everyone, not just veggies and vegans. I've been to a few festivals before now and the queue for the veggie burgers was always much longer than other queues."

"Team, did he discuss this decision with you?" Sir Uther opened up to the team.

"He did, Sir," replied Cen and Merlin could have hugged him. "He put across a convincing case for going veggie and I have to say most of us agreed with the decision based on what we were hearing."

Sir Uther nodded. "How did you cover the long hours required – sixteen hour days with six staff?"

"Merlin devised a rota," Morgause spoke up. "We all worked 9-10 hours a day and Merlin made sure if we'd done the late shift we wouldn't be on the early one the following day. He – and the others who were not on that shift – were to be on call in case there were any problems."

"I see. How did you work as a team? It sounds as though there were few problems," Sir Uther probed.

"Merlin worked longer hours than all of us," Morgana said, surprising Merlin. "He held it all together."

"We all worked very well together, Sir," Gwen said nervously, answering the original question. "There were a couple of 'stress' arguments, to be expected, but overall I think this was a good team effort."

Merlin could see Valiant fighting with himself not to say anything, probably thinking that if this team went down he would be first in the firing line. Merlin would definitely be taking him into the boardroom if they lost.

"Well, the results will speak for themselves I'm sure," Sir Uther said and turned to the girls team. "Sorcery – how was Freya as project leader?"

Merlin's heart sank as a couple of the team members – Sophia and Nimueh – turned immediately on Freya and starting accusing her of badly managing the team. He felt bad for Freya, whom he liked, but this was good for him. It sounded as though the other team hadn't done too well.

He crossed his fingers under the table and reminded himself that this was a competition, no room for sentimentality in the boardroom.

The results were announced, and Merlin held his breath until it sunk in that his team had won by miles. He'd won! He'd bloody well done it! He tried to catch Arthur's eye and beamed at him when he did, silently trying to say 'I'm sorry,' and when Arthur smiled back before quickly covering it, Merlin felt like he'd won the lottery.

"Well done Phoenix," Sir Uther said. "As your reward today you'll be flown first class to Spain where you will spend two days at the luxurious resort of La Manga, all inclusive. I feel that as this was a long task a longer reward is called for."

Merlin and his team left the boardroom in a daze, all of them hugging Merlin, Valiant reluctantly shaking his hand. They were quickly swept off to the airport where they were to be met with ready packed suitcases and their passports.

Gwen later received a text from Lance saying that Freya had been fired.

Merlin's only thought, as he blotted out his team mates' excited chatter as they disembarked the plane and slotted themselves into a fancy limo for the trip to La Manga, was of Arthur smiling back at him. He only hoped Arthur had read the apology in his eyes.

**::::**


	6. Week Five

**Week Five**

"Merlin, how is that you've just spent two days in Spain and you've come back as pale as you were when you left?" Cen teased with a jostling arm in Merlin's side as they stepped over the threshold of the London house.

"Some of us don't lie around all day posing on an inflatable wearing just a thong," Merlin replied, trying to keep the tone teasing, but feeling decidedly uncomfortable at Cen's increased flirting. "Morgana, Gwen and I preferred to play Scrabble in the covered bar." _And I preferred not to subject the rest of the world to my pasty skinny self in swimming trunks._

"Oh, so you _did_ notice the thong, I thought-"

"Cen, _everyone_ noticed the thong, though it was so small it's kind of a miracle!" Morgana jumped in, saving Merlin, for which he cast her a thankful glance and fled to his room. A couple of cocktails and Cen had cranked up the flirt-o-meter, and last night had been crowding Merlin at dinner, arms around him, teasing him affectionately – and it would have been nice, _might_ have been nice if Merlin didn't only have eyes for Arthur Pendragon.

He threw himself headfirst on his bed with a mournful groan. This was the last thing he needed; he and Cen had to work together, he liked him and things could get mightily awkward if Merlin outright rejected him, but on the other hand, he didn't exactly want to encourage him either.

The past couple of days of relaxation time in Spain had given him chance to think, and he'd decided to just go with it – this _whatever_ with Arthur. Will's voice had taken residence in his head, repeating on a loop, 'you don't have to marry the guy, just shag him'. Will hadn't been wrong before; it _was_ surprising his cock hadn't fallen off from lack of use.

There was a knock on his door, and Merlin stilled, panicking until Morgana's voice floated through the wooden barrier, "Merlin? Can I come in?"

"Door's open," he said and turned over onto his back, propping himself up on his elbows. Morgana floated through the open door and closed it behind her, sitting down on the window seat, hooking one leg over the other gracefully.

"I've warned Cen to back off," she said without preamble. "I don't know how much good it will do; I warned him that it's inappropriate behaviour for this setting."

Someone _else_ doing his dirty work for him? Merlin sighed. "Does everyone around here think I'm incapable of handling these things myself? First Arthur, now you..."

"I know you can, but you're too nice. Arthur...what did _he_ do?" she caught up with what Merlin had said in a delayed reaction, frowning.

Merlin shook his head, "It's nothing, and I shouldn't have said anything."

Morgana narrowed her eyes for a moment before relaxing and saying, "I just wanted to warn you – I didn't tell you yesterday, but I headed Cen off the night before last, a few cocktails to the wind, about to knock on your bedroom door. He kind of has it bad, Merlin."

Merlin planted his face into his hands and peeked at Morgana through his fingers before closing his eyes and suppressing a groan. He heard Morgana stand up to leave.

"See you at dinner." She was gone as quickly as she had arrived.

Merlin turned back over and buried his face in the pillow.

Why was he here? He was stressed all the time, his life would be open to speculation when the show aired in the autumn and this so wasn't him, where had this competitive streak come from? He'd gone into this because Will had called him a coward; five weeks into it at he was still here – which Merlin had never expected – and he _wanted_ it, wanted the win so much.

He sighed; four days until the next task. Four days until Arthur.

**::::**

Those days off dragged. Merlin spent a couple of days alone with his camera and London landmarks, hoping for the day he would be rudely awakened at stupid o'clock for the next task.

When the day came Merlin found himself and being driven north through the early Tuesday morning traffic, small overnight bag in hand, until they arrived at Trafford Centre near Manchester.

Ewan had explained that viewer feedback from previous series pointed to people wanting more locations outside of London, so instead of the usual Bluewater Shopping Centre they had gone further afield. Merlin thought that one shopping centre was much like another and perhaps the viewing public had been hoping for a different view of Britain from outside the confines a building that was the same as every other of its kind.

They wearily climbed out of the cars, a collection of suited, booted and bleary eyed individuals, and were herded into a closed off section of the shopping centre; by now it was only 10.30am. Arthur and Gaius met them, the crew already in place, with a video screen between them on which Sir Uther appeared and issued the challenge in what was clearly a pre-recorded spiel. He moved the teams around, Valiant and Morgause to Sorcery – Merlin had to work hard not to jump in the air and whoop in joy at the loss of Valiant – Leon and Nimueh to Phoenix.

The task was to run a photography stand in the shopping centre, selling portraits, and any associated paraphernalia they wanted to add – mugs, mouse mats, t-shirts etc. They were provided with a list of available products and prices and sent away to opposite ends of the vast shopping centre.

Merlin was quite excited, being a photographer this task again was right up his street; he hoped whoever the project leader was would let him be photographer – hoped but didn't assume – and there was the worry that he'd get accused of not pulling his weight in other areas, such as sales.

This time, Gaius was their observer, and Merlin was torn between being disappointed and relieved. He always felt so self-conscious when Arthur was there, but he'd really missed Arthur this last week, more than he really cared to admit. Hopefully Arthur would be staying at the same hotel tonight?

In the initial meeting Nimueh and Cen put themselves forward as project leader, but with Nimueh claiming experience in running a fast moving business due to running a restaurant back in Milton Keynes, she won the group vote and Cen had to stand down and let her take the lead.

"Cen and I will run front of house," Nimueh stated calmly. "Cen's good at luring people in, and I'm confident I can sell the products. Merlin – I want you as the runner – it's a fair jog from the production room to the stand; you'll be fetching the orders once they've gone through."

Leon looked as though he wanted to argue but he remained silent, letting Nimueh continue with a pout and a warning flash of blue eyes.

"If it's not working I'll review it later. Morgana and Gwen you'll be back of house producing the finished products. Leon, you're the photographer. Again – if this configuration doesn't work then we can review. Has anyone got any problems with this?"

" _Yes_ ," said Leon firmly. "I don't know one end of a lens from another. I think Merlin should-"

"What's the obsession with Merlin always being the photographer?" Nimueh countered impatiently.

"Because he's a photographer you idiot," said Cen, shooting Merlin a fond look. "He's bloody good too. You'd be a fool not to assign him the job."

Merlin cringed. "I'm happy to let someone else take the photos and be on call if there are any problems," he offered.

"Thank you, Merlin," said Nimueh with a glare at Cen. "However I'm a fair person, I take feedback on board; Merlin, you'll do the photos, Leon, you're the runner."

Cen clapped an arm around Merlin's shoulder triumphantly. Merlin flinched, rapidly planning an extraction strategy that wouldn't cause offence.  
"Right then – we've got this list of related products here – we've got to decide what we want to offer, work out how long it will take to make each item, and price it up." Nimueh waved a laminated A4 sheet at the team. "Remember the other team are working out of the same shopping centre and probably going to be offering the same products. We have to be competitive."

They were due to open the stall at 1.00pm and work through till 6.00pm. Then they would be starting again at 9.00am the next day until 5.00pm. This meant they had just over two hours to get everything ready.

Merlin offered to make a trip to Starbucks to bolster their energy; he couldn't function a moment longer without his fix.

**::::**

Business boomed. Merlin was run off his feet shooting pictures of cute babies, not so cute babies, happy families, happy couples and there was a huge demand for the glamour shots Morgana had suggested; which meant she spent most of her time doing make-up out the front instead of out the back.

Poor Gwen was run off her feet in the back, with Leon busily bridging the gap, until Nimueh suggested he take over from sales for a while and she took over the running.

Gaius loitered with his notebook, the camera crew were a permanent fixture, picking team members off one by one for filler footage, and the day flew by in a frenzy of panic, until 6.00pm rolled around and the team collectively sighed in relief at the end of day one and let themselves be ferried into waiting cars to be taken to the hotel – which was literally 500 metres away on the other side of the shopping centre – The Tulip Inn.

Ewan had arranged for everyone to dine at 'Las Iguanas' back over in the shopping centre at 8.00pm, so they had their short debriefing in their designated conference room in which Nimueh delivered everyone a 'shit sandwich' which was her apparent management style – something you did well, something you sucked at, something you did well. The main overall problem they were encountering was the time it was taking to get the finished product out of the back room and into the customer's hand.

Morgana strategically suggested that they change the pricing structure slightly, making the products slightly more expensive if produced within a 15 minute wait, or offering a deal in which the customer comes back after an hour and enjoys a slightly cheaper product. They spent some time working out a suitable pricing structure before finishing up and agreeing to a breakfast meeting the following morning.

Merlin ran himself a bath when he got to the hotel room and sank into it with a contented sigh, letting his magic create mini whirlpools that tickled his tummy and made him think of his childhood. For some reason his magic was bursting to get out, probably from lack of use as back home he used it all the time in his house, or at work when no one was looking, and a couple of ailments inflicted on the villains and a few bath time tricks couldn't appease it. He lay back in the tub and thought about what he wanted to wear that evening, letting his magic fetch the items from his suitcase and magically iron them, giving it something to do in the hope this persistent _itching_ under his skin would go away. A little voice in his head helpfully supplied 'itching for Arthur' and Merlin almost fancied he saw Will sitting on his shoulder whispering into his ear.

He'd tried not thinking about Arthur this last week, but it hadn't worked; trying to force himself not to think about Arthur just made his magic protest more than it already was. Merlin couldn't risk any kind of magical mishap – not that he'd had one in years, unless he counted the almost explosion the other day when Valiant had taunted him about his Mum. He'd learnt long ago to listen to his magic when it wanted to be heard.

He dressed in his nicely pressed blue shirt and black jeans, unable to resist wearing his Converse; this was non-work time, he felt like he had to let a little of his own personality into what he was wearing; business suits felt so repressive.

To Merlin's amazement, cars were at the ready to ferry them back over to the shopping centre for dinner. It would have been quicker to walk. He still hadn't seen Arthur other than the briefing that morning and his fingers were crossed that he would be present at dinner.

Gaius was there – but there was no sign of Arthur. It was Sophia who asked as they settled around their table, "Where's Arthur tonight?" the camera on her as she pouted prettily, flirting into the lens.

"He'll be here soon," Gaius said, smoothing his napkin onto his lap. "He's been delayed on a phone call."

Merlin breathed a sigh of relief and tried to relax into the evening, forgetting the impending stress of tomorrow and ignoring the way his magic protested to Cen's overt flirting. Of course, Merlin had found himself manoeuvred into the seat next to the confident older man, who clearly had _not_ paid too much attention to Morgana's warning to back off.

There was an empty seat with Arthur's name on it across the table between Gaius and Mordred. The seat remained empty all evening when Arthur was a no show. Gaius waved it away saying that the conference call must have gone on longer than anticipated, but Merlin felt as though something else was wrong and he literally itched to return to the hotel to find Arthur, to make sure he was okay. He wasn't sure where this surge of protectiveness came from – probably the same place that had ended up with Merlin giving Kanen urinary problems (which he had only remembered to lift a couple of days ago).

When the group moved on to deserts and coffee, Merlin pleaded a headache and walked himself back to the hotel; not sure what he was going to do now, he didn't know Arthur's room number, and he knew that reception wouldn't just offer it up if he asked. He could try reaching out with his magic and locating Arthur that way, but sometimes it was a little off and Merlin had never forgotten the time he'd jumped out from behind that tree to scare Will and had almost given an old lady a heart attack.

He tried it anyway, sitting down on one of the sofas in reception and reaching out, expecting the invisible chord to pull him upstairs; instead it led him around the corner to the bar area. Merlin followed, and sure enough, there was Arthur, still in his business suit, tie half mast, slumped in the corner of the hotel bar, alone, nursing an amber coloured drink and a frown.

Merlin hesitated then; he'd found Arthur but he was unsure whether his presence would be welcome. In that moment Arthur's head came up, his eyes meeting Merlin's and momentarily lighting up before the shutters came down, and even from this distance Merlin could see a red tinge around his eyelids.

Hesitation forgotten, Merlin crossed the room and sat down beside Arthur, deciding to ignore any obvious distress on Arthur's part unless Arthur mentioned it, "We missed you at dinner," he began, smiling warmly at the man beside him, hoping Arthur wouldn't reject his hand of friendship in the way Merlin was in the habit of doing to Arthur. "I've left them to it."

"Sorry about that, _Mer_ lin" Arthur said sarcastically, downing the rest of his drink in one mouthful and slamming the glass on the table. "Couldn't you cope with big bad Valiant all by yourself?"

Merlin froze, feeling like he'd just been kicked in the gut. He'd been so ready to see what this was; if he and Arthur could ever be _anything_. "I was right about you," he found himself saying. "You really are an insufferable prat."

He pushed himself off the chair and left Arthur to wallow in whatever it was that was biting his arse, because Merlin didn't need it. _He didn't care_.

**::::**

Instead of storming upstairs to his room, Merlin found himself on his way back to 'Las Iguanas' and back into the welcome company of others. "Headache went as soon as I got back and I didn't quite feel like bed yet," Merlin fibbed, sitting back in his seat and helping himself to a large glass of white wine.

When the party retired to the bar area, Merlin followed, still sober enough to make sure he didn't end up sitting beside Cen, instead forcing an enjoyment he didn't feel as he joked with Morgana and Leon before they all decided it was getting late and that they should be getting back. For the second time that evening Merlin found himself reaching out with his magic to find out where Arthur was, telling himself off as he did so because _he didn't fucking care_. Magic and alcohol were a poor combination, and all Merlin could work out was that Arthur was upstairs, probably asleep in his room.

Merlin hoped he was lonely and miserable.

He made it upstairs to his room with a smile plastered on his face for Gwen's sake – her room was opposite his – and once free he used his magic to open his door and sank back against it with a heavy sigh. What a day. He felt wretched. Like he'd found a penny but lost his winning lottery ticket.

There was a snuffling sound from the direction of the bed, startling Merlin into fumbling for the light, gaping as the light revealed a sleeping Arthur, face down and fully dressed on Merlin's preferred side of the bed, softly snoring. What – the – fuck?

He stomped over to the bedside and poked Arthur's shoulder, stepping back straight away, arms folded. "Arthur!" he hissed. " _Arthur, wake up!_ "

Arthur grumbled and rolled on his back, "Merlin?"

"Who else were you expecting seeing as it's _my fucking room_?" Merlin tried desperately to ignore the thundering of his heart at the picture Arthur made, his usual perfection dishevelled by a rumpled suit and tufting hair, his eyes still red rimmed. "How did you even get in anyway?"

"You... Key." Arthur's eyes fluttered closed.

"Arthur!"

"Huh? Oh." Arthur opened his eyes wide and immediately squinted against the light. Merlin, despite having had a couple or three glasses of wine and being slightly merry himself, could smell the alcohol on Arthur's breath from where he stood.

"You're wasted," Merlin said resignedly. "Come on; let's get you back to your room."

Arthur flopped out a drunken arm in Merlin's general direction. "'M sorry Merlin," he mumbled as his eyes snapped shut again and his breathing instantly deepened; he was out cold.

"Fuck," whispered Merlin.

The apology changed everything.

**::::**

Merlin woke up with a cricked neck and a slight headache, the first caused by trying to sleep (and somehow succeeding) on the two-seater sofa in the hotel room, the second probably a combination of too much wine and the sofa. He cautiously opened one eye and trained it on the bed.

Arthur was still there, under the blanket Merlin had laid over him, gently snoring away. The git.

Merlin sat up straight and rubbed his neck, grabbing his phone from the coffee table to check the time. Still early. If he was going to be in any fit state to work behind the camera all day today he was going to need a long hot shower and a bucketful of coffee.

He really should wake Arthur, but – his anger had abated at Arthur's drunken seeking him out and apologising – he'd been upset by someone or something last night and maybe he deserved to sleep a little longer before waking up and remembering whatever it was that had triggered him in the first place.

Merlin locked the bathroom door behind him and stripped off last night's clothes before climbing into the shower with a relieved sigh.

Really, what he had wanted to do last night – second to climbing into bed bedsides Arthur, which he wasn't about to do when Arthur was _that_ drunk – was somehow levitate the sleeping Arthur back to his own room using his magic so that he could reclaim his bed and not feel like a dead badger this morning.

Despite the reviving qualities of the shower, Merlin felt grotty; this, however, did not stop Merlin's cock from standing to attention at the thought of Arthur, _in his bed_ , just outside the door.

Reluctantly Merlin allowed himself the fantasy he'd been denying himself since he'd met Arthur. This wasn't to say he hadn't enjoyed a wank during that time, he was twenty-four not ninety-four, but he'd used other people as inspiration – Richard Armitage, Jensen Ackles...whoever – and if it was only blokes filling his mind at the moment, he couldn't help that could he? If those blokes all morphed into Arthur by the time he came, well that wasn't his fault either.

He leant back against the cool tiles and closed his eyes, his imagination immediately sending him to a place where Arthur was on his knees, his perfect mouth stretched around Merlin's cock, his blue eyes gazing up at Merlin as he worked his tongue over the head, taking turns between engulfing him fully and paying special attention to the tip, and Merlin's hands were curling into Arthur's hair, and he was chanting his name in his mind, fighting off his orgasm to the very last moment – and he came with a muffled shout, his endless stream of hot white come being washed away by the steaming water.

Oh God. If he could come like that just _thinking_ of Arthur; what would it be like with the real Arthur? Shaking, Merlin rinsed himself down and climbed out of the shower, belatedly realising he had no clean clothes to change into, resorting to towelling himself down and wrapping the towel around his waist, grateful for his leanness as it was a very small towel, hoping Arthur was still asleep.

He left the bathroom in a cloud of steam ready to grab his clean clothes and dash back into the bathroom to change.

Arthur had gone.

**::::**

The second day of the task was an unmitigated disaster. Nothing worked, all the equipment went kaput at some point or other, the t-shirt printer contraption jammed, Leon dropped the last box of mugs and smashed them all – if it could go wrong, it seemed to Merlin that it did.

Luckily, the camera kept on working, which meant Merlin was kept busy doing that and was under strict instructions not to get involved in anything else unless he ran out of customers to photograph. Lack of customers wasn't the problem; the shortfall in end product was the main concern.

Nimueh became increasingly unpleasant as things began to fall apart, the blame landing on any other team member other than herself. As far as Merlin could tell she didn't actually do that much, just float around in her crimson red dress, scaring people into buying from her.

It didn't help that Merlin's headache refused to abate, even though he'd drunk a load of water and thrown paracetamol down his neck, it dulled, but it was still there, taunting him. He began to think it was a psychosomatic problem, and totally Arthur's fault. That was the only time he allowed himself to divert to Arthur though, no time for maudlin thoughts when their arses were on the line; if they carried on like this then they were in the firing line for sure.

Gwen saved the day, or at least made it seem a little brighter, when she suggested they offer e-photos, whereby they take the photo, and when the customer has chosen the shot they want, they email it to them or save it to a (hastily bulk purchased at Staples) memory stick, and the customer can then use the photo for whatever they wish. It meant that they could offer a product that had no malfunctioning equipment at the other end to contend with...as long as the laptop kept working.

Surprisingly, this idea sold well, which kept Merlin busy and with only enough free time for loo breaks and quick gulps of coffee that was routinely placed within his easy reach by a helpful team member (Merlin suspected Cen, but was too worn out to notice).

By the end of the day, he was only too grateful to be shunted into one of the waiting cars, not even caring that he'd fallen asleep on Morgana's shoulder – and had probably been snoring and drooling – and all of that probably on camera and already hastily being edited into his leaving montage file thingy they would play on 'You're Fired' after they'd shown the clips of all his team mates slagging him off...like the fillers he'd had to film talking about his impressions of Freya and Myror etc. They probably wouldn't show his clips anyway as Merlin was always far too diplomatic about others to be good TV in that respect.

As soon as they got back to the London house Merlin miraculously perked up, making everyone a cuppa as they waited for a take-away to be delivered. Gaius and Arthur had apparently returned to their own homes and would be seen in the boardroom tomorrow.

Sorcery's project leader, Morgause, dragged her team away straight away for a meeting but Nimueh had scheduled a pre boardroom meeting for first thing, claiming she recognised how tired the team were. By the time the other team came back to the fold the take-away had just arrived and Merlin was tucking into his cheese feast pizza and chatting with Morgana and Gwen about wedding photography.

"Merlin," Leon said as he came back in the room after a loo break. "Ewan wants you in the edit room."

"Ooooooooh!" chorused all of Phoenix, clearly co-ordinated by a smirking Leon. "He _wants_ you."

Merlin blushed, glad that Ev wasn't hovering to film his embarrassment, "Fuck off you lot." He turned to Leon, "Where's the edit room?"

Apparently the edit room was on the first floor and was where the crew looked over some of the footage they had taken at the house to see if they had got what they needed. Merlin had never heard of it.

What the bloody hell could Ewan want with him right this minute? He'd filmed his fillers, done his 'why I should be the Apprentice' spiel – he hoped they didn't want him to film that again because the first time had been mortifying enough. Merlin had said that he 'weaved his own brand of magic' – other than being true in ways no one else could understand, it was an utterly cheesy load of bollocks. When Will watched it he was going to mock Merlin endlessly.

As he approached the top of the stairs Ewan came out of a door Merlin had previously assumed to be a broom cupboard, unmarked and tucked away, muttering under his breath, as was his manner, stopping when he saw Merlin and glaring at him as though Merlin had just run over his grandmother.

" _Finally_ ," he huffed grumpily, holding open the door for Merlin to enter. "Take a seat."

Merlin perched on the edge of an ornate upholstered chair just inside the door and looked questioningly at Ewan.

"What are you looking like that for? I just need you to sign some paperwork head office sent over earlier; apparently you missed off a signature on a disclaimer."

Merlin relaxed a little and as Ewan shuffled through some folders on the tiny desk in the corner, smirking to himself as his eyes changed colour, unseen by Ewan. He took the liberty of scanning the room. It was nothing special, decorated in white, various pieces of equipment stacked against the far wall, huge flat screen TV on the wall to Merlin's left that was silently playing back unedited fillers; Merlin cringed, recognising himself on the screen, reading his own lips as he talked about Nimueh's management style.

"Sorry about this, Merlin," Ewan said annoyed, drawing Merlin's attention away from the TV. "I can't seem to find the file; I could've _sworn_ it was here somewhere."

"No rush," said Merlin easily, waiting for Ewan to finish checking the pile of folders and start rummaging the desk drawer before magically replacing the file at the bottom of the original pile. That'd teach him for being so arsy. Merlin turned his head back to the TV and gasped.

A head and shoulders shot of Arthur, in a black suit with a blue tie, his eyes popping, against the backdrop of the shopping mall, talking to the camera, eyes slightly off to the left; his name would in big white letters at the bottom of the screen when the show aired: Arthur Pendragon, Sir Uther's Aide. To look at him there, no one would ever know he'd drunk himself stupid the night before and fallen asleep on one of the candidate's beds. On _Merlin's_ bed.

Merlin still hadn't sussed how Arthur had gotten his room in the first place as his key had been in his pocket where he'd left it. He was beginning to wish he'd climbed into bed beside him.

"Not you too," Ewan's voice knocked him out of his Arthur induced haze, and Merlin turned to see Ewan looked a tad flustered, clutching the offending file.

"'Not me too' – what?"

"Going all doe eyed over Pendragon Jnr," Ewan nodded at the screen where various shots of Arthur making notes on the task were running in silent perfection. "First Sophia trying to _touch_ him all the time, then poor Joe's crushing on him, even that Morgana's been asking me lots of questions about him – now you're all-"

"You're the one who left the TV on; of course I'm gonna watch it," Merlin shrugged off the implication. "Hang on – _Morgana_ is asking questions about Arthur, but, I thought-"

Ewan began fumbling with his shirt pocket for the pen that had been there a couple of seconds earlier, before Merlin's curiosity had been piqued that is.

"Mhhm, yes, keeps asking me about his schedule..." he checked behind his ear. "Where the blasted hell is that pen now?"

Merlin didn't feel inclined to help out, knowing his face was probably too obviously _innocent_ but also knowing there was no way Ewan could know he'd magicked the pen away.

"What were you saying about Morgana, Ewan?"

"She – oh wait a minute there's a box of pens in the drawer," he slid open the bottom desk drawer and produced a biro from within, taking off the lid with a flourish and handing Merlin the paperwork and the pen. "Could you just sign where the X is please?"

Dammit. Ewan was so easy to get info out of when he was distracted. Once he'd gone back into business-as-usual mode his guard was back up. Merlin sighed and signed the papers.

"Anything else you need while I'm here?" he asked, edging towards the door, his mind whirring with this new Morgana-Arthur discovery.

"If you wouldn't mind asking Guinevere to pop up please Merlin, she's forgotten to sign something as well." Ewan was opening the door and Merlin was back outside in the corridor.

**::::**

The boardroom was after lunch the following day. Nimueh's debrief meeting all seemed to be her trying to manipulate the team into blaming one another for the failings. Merlin almost preferred Valiant – at least he was _honest_ in his unpleasantness; before working with Nimueh on this task he'd thought her a perfectly pleasant woman.

He hoped that if they lost the task – and Merlin had a horrible feeling they _had_ – he would escape the boardroom. He'd worked his socks off these last two days.

They filed in, Merlin standing on the end behind Gwen, Morgana and Nimueh. He chanced a glance at Arthur and was rewarded with a small rueful – apologetic? – smile. It was enough for Merlin, for now. He felt himself relax slightly; he hadn't realised the prospect of seeing Arthur again had been tensing him up as much as it did.

There was some momentary flapping with camera angles and then the doors opened and Sir Uther swept in, tightening the already tense atmosphere with his presence. He sat down and did a sweep of the remaining candidates.

"This week you were selling the dream, perfect family photographs to compliment the customers' homes. I hear that for some of you the time was less 'picture perfect' than that." He fixed his gaze on Sorcery. "Sorcery, who was your project leader?"

"I was, Sir," said Morgause.

"Team – was she a decent project leader?"

Merlin half tuned out, knowing he wouldn't be called upon just yet, succumbing to the inevitable, which was studying Arthur from beneath his lashes. Arthur interjected his opinion on Morgause's authoritative management style, one hundred percent the professional businessman, his observations clear and concise with no personal reflections; just facts. He later jumped into an argument between Sophia and Valiant whereby Valiant accused Sophia of using her breasts to sell photos and Sophia saying that Valiant didn't seem to mind ogling them!

It was getting difficult for Merlin to equate business boardroom Arthur with the one he had been slowly unravelling; the one who caught him when he fell at festivals, brought him coffee when he was upset, was a total git to him but then drunkenly broke into his room to apologise...

Sir Uther finished with Sorcery and addressed Merlin's team, and after the initial 'how was Nimueh as a leader?' the whole thing turned into chaos.

"I felt that the team could have been more supportive when the equipment began to go wrong; they just expected me to fix it," Nimueh threw out a not-mentioned-in-any-debrief accusation. "If the back room team had worked faster-"

Gwen stiffened and Merlin patted her shoulder; Gwen had been snowed under with orders and had worked as fast as possible.

"Define 'more supportive'," Leon said before Gwen could find her words, holding up his hands which were still ink stained from his efforts at trying to fix the printer. " _You_ did nothing whilst the rest of us got on with working with what we _did_ have. _You_ didn't come up with any solutions, you-"  
" _I_ didn't drop and break a whole box of mugs!" she countered, the pitch rising slightly.

"I wouldn't have dropped the box of mugs if you hadn't flung that door open in my face," Leon remained calm. Nimueh's normally pale face was getting redder.

"He's right," Gaius defended. "The breakages were your fault. Everyone makes mistakes; it's whether they can admit to and learn from them that matters."

Nimueh bristled.

"When things started to go wrong, what strategy did you put in place to keep the stand running – to keep the cash flowing in?" Sir Uther asked.

"I added a 'virtual' product by selling photos on USB sticks for people to print onto their own medium at home," Nimueh told him proudly.

"You're making it sound as though that was your idea," Merlin couldn't help saying. "That was Gwen's suggestion."

Nimueh turned and glared at him, her eyes flashing maliciously, "Well, Merlin, you were so very helpful when everything started to fall apart."

"Merlin had his hands busy fulfilling the orders Cenred brought in," Gaius supplied. He turned to Sir Uther and said, "Cenred did most of the selling, even though it was supposed to be a joint responsibility between him and Nimueh."

"I-" began Nimueh, but Sir Uther held a hand up.

"I've heard enough. Arthur – tell me Sorcery's figures."

"Sorcery made a total sum of £1808.73. Their outgoings were £414.40 making them a total profit of £1394.33," he smiled as he read out the last figure and licked his lips. Merlin suppressed a gasp as his gut twisted.  
"Gaius, how did Phoenix do?"

"Phoenix's outgoings were £409.33, however their total sales came in at £16-"

Sorcery started hooting before Gaius could finish speaking.

"£1694.09 – making a total profit of £1284.76," he finished.

"Congratulations on the win Sorcery," Sir Uther deigned to smile at the winning team. "Your prize today is a helicopter ride over London to Windsor Castle, where you will be greeted by a champagne reception and be given the chance to play croquet in the grounds."

Sorcery cheered, filing from the room, and Merlin allowed himself a mini huff because he would _love_ a helicopter ride.

"Phoenix – it's the cafe for you to give yourselves chance to discuss what went wrong. When you come back, one of you will be fired."

**::::**

They went to the cafe and argued; well mainly Nimueh was thoroughly unpleasant before realising that being nice might get her further, thus laying on the fake charm.

The fake charm lasted all of ten minutes before there was very nearly a claws out cat fight between her and Morgana when she accused Morgana of having a 'hidden agenda', saying she 'saw and heard everything'.

Merlin carefully added that to his growing arsenal of Morgana-related suspicions; suddenly dying to talk to Nimueh alone to ask what she had meant. He had a feeling that he wouldn't get very far if he did.

Nimueh had fooled him; before this task he'd not heard anyone bitching about her as he had others. She was a classic example of someone who let the power go to her head.

After an hour of 'discussion' the crew ferried them back to the boardroom, where it then transpired that Sir Uther had taken an urgent call from Paris and was dealing with the fallout, and they were told that they were at liberty to utilise the next hour however they wished and to please be back in one hour.

By unspoken agreement, everyone dispersed, Merlin was glad for some time alone, though not so glad to have another hour to wait before he found out if he was getting fired today. He didn't feel like he would be; but he'd thought that about candidates before when watching the show – the team manager would take someone unexpected into the boardroom and Sir Uther would fire them for 'sitting back' or something. Merlin didn't think he deserved to be fired, certainly not today.

He found a bench in a surprisingly secluded spot with water surrounding him and quickly set an alarm on his phone for fifty-five minutes. He tipped his head up to the sun, closing his eyes and basking in the July sunshine. How long he sat like that he wasn't sure; he didn't even open his eyes when he felt the bench dip slightly to indicate someone had sat beside him.

"I'm sorry."

Merlin stilled. Arthur. He kept his eyes closed as he said, "For breaking into my room and stealing my bed?"

Arthur laughed softly, "That, and for what I said which served as the catalyst for the aforementioned break in." Merlin's breath hitched as Arthur hooked his little finger over his where it lay beside him on the bench. "My father – I – I'd told him something he didn't want to hear and it didn't go well."

Merlin opened his eyes and turned to look at Arthur with a silent questioning glance.

Arthur sighed and continued, never taking his gaze off Merlin's, "With hindsight, it probably wasn't the best idea I ever had to have the conversation over the telephone." He moved his hand so it was covering Merlin's, his palm warm atop Merlin's. "I should never have taken it out on you..."

Merlin tried to formulate a reply, but his heart was pounding so loudly and so fast he almost felt dizzy from it. He finally managed a whispered, "'S'okay."

"The thing with Valiant," Arthur said, obviously set on an apology hat trick. "It wasn't how he made it sound..." he tailed off, his hand tightening over Merlin's.

Time felt as though it had stopped, Arthur and Merlin suspended in their own universe, where there was only the two of them, each unable to tear their eyes from the other.

Almost from a distance Merlin's mobile alarm jolted into reality. It was time to get back to the boardroom. "We – have to get back," he said, still unable to drag his eyes off Arthur, or move.

"We do," Arthur replied, making no effort to move either.

"We really ought to-" Merlin trailed off and time slowed down again.

"Merlin!" Ewan's voice permeated through the fog of his brain and the man himself appeared in Merlin's peripheral vision. "What are you – oh, Mr Pendragon – I didn't see you there."

Arthur's hand slipped off Merlin's as he stood up to greet Ewan - who thankfully didn't seem to have noticed anything amiss. "Ewan – Merlin and I were just discussing the best time to invest on the stock market, I must have lost track of time," he saved, dazzling poor Ewan with his sunniest smile.

"Yes, well, you're both needed back at the boardroom now so -"

They followed Ewan back to the boardroom in silence. Merlin was desperately trying to get his head in order, ready for the boardroom; he couldn't afford to be off his game because all that his mind really wanted to focus on was Arthur.

**::::**

The return to the boardroom turned into World War 3, and Merlin was so glad that the bickering between Nimueh and Leon didn't throw any blame on him, or require any intervention from him, because try as he might, he couldn't get his head back into the task.

When Sir Uther asked Nimueh who she was taking into the boardroom with her she chose Leon and Gwen; Cen, Morgana and himself were dismissed back to the house. Merlin felt the relief course through him, and as he pushed his chair away from the table to stand, he looked at Arthur.

Arthur smiled and gave him a tiny nod.

Merlin insides exploded with such a kick of pure _want_ he didn't even recall getting back to the house and how much time had passed between that, Gwen and Leon's triumphant return and his going to bed.

God help him, he was well and truly done for.

**::::**


	7. Week Six

**Week Six**

"This week's task requires you to utilise your creativity and your business skills," Sir Uther boomed via a video link with a still of the Eiffel Tower behind him. "You're going to create two different bath or beauty products from scratch with natural ingredients. You are then going to sell those products to the public."

They were in a huge factory unit on the outskirts of London in the early hours of the morning. Merlin was trying very hard to concentrate on the screen and not let his eyes be dragged to the left where a tired looking Arthur was standing, looking breathtakingly authoritative in a dark grey suit with his mandatory blue tie.

Merlin was totally confused. After what had happened outside the boardroom of the last task – Arthur holding his hand - he'd expected _something_ to happen, but in the five days since then there had been nothing, and this was the first time he was laying eyes on Arthur since that day. Not that he was making eye contact; Merlin felt inordinately nervous and was observing from the corner of his eye, noting as he did that Arthur wasn't looking him either. Merlin would go as far as to say he was actively avoiding him. It hurt more than Merlin liked to admit.

"You'll have the use of this specialist facility in order to create your masterpieces. It's simple, the most profit wins. I'm shaking up the teams again – Cenred you'll move to Sorcery where Mordred will be leading – Lance, take your place with Phoenix I want you to lead them." Cen and Lance swapped places. "Arthur is with Phoenix, Gaius with Sorcery. Good luck everyone - I'll see you back at the boardroom when this is over and _one of you will be fired._ "

The screen went blank and Ewan stepped to the fore. "Don't worry guys, this is a three day task, you'll be researching and creating the product today, making it tomorrow and selling it on Saturday." He waved Joe over. "Phoenix, follow Joe who will take you your work area. Sorcery, you'll be working in here."

Merlin still didn't look at Arthur, awkwardly following Joe and his team to their workspace on the other side of the factory, aware that Arthur was following silently behind.

Again, the time between tasks had dragged, more so for Merlin because of his initial Arthur-centric expectations. The weather had been supremely British and miserable and Merlin had ended up spending most of the time in front of the TV in the living room with Leon, Cen and Morgana watching movies, including a six movie Star Wars marathon. Cen was dropping hints the size of bowling balls that he'd like to be more than friends with Merlin, which had turned into a bit of an awkward dance on Merlin's part. Gwen and Lance seemed to be getting closer and had spent most of their spare time together, and when Merlin did see either of them, both would extol the wonders of the other, but neither actually made a move of the romantic kind. Cen and Leon made a bet over who would make the first move. Gwaine and Sophia had started playing musical bedrooms, much to Mordred's annoyance as told he Gwaine in a matter-of-fact way that he would prefer it if the two of them used Sophia's bedroom in future as they were keeping him awake. Poor Mordred – Gwaine had mocked him for being a prude and proceeded to blatantly ignore the request.

Merlin had thought about Arthur – with increasing woe as time had pressed on – a _lot_. When Arthur was near, he _wanted_ him. When he wasn't with him, he wanted him still – but the voice of doubt was louder, telling him not to be so ridiculous. Merlin Emrys with Arthur Pendragon? Merely the work of fantasy.

In the corner of their workspace was a table for them to plan their strategy – what products, what ingredients and so on and this was where they gathered now. They were a team of five - Lance, Merlin, Leon, Gwen and Morgana. Lance – whose 'day job' was actually studying for a PHd - looked like he was about to give a keynote speech to a crowd of thousands instead of lead a small team, his hands were shaking slightly and a tiny bead of sweat adorned his upper lip; the poor bloke was a bag of nerves.

"Don't worry Lance," Merlin said, patting his friend on the arm. "We're gonna win this one; _and_ we don't have Valiant!"

Lance smiled weakly, "Good point."

Crowded around the table, the cameras following them, Merlin sat with his back to Arthur, who had a chair in the corner, away from the main table. He couldn't help himself though, the proximity and the pull was too great. He turned and fixed Arthur with his gaze. In that moment though, Arthur wasn't looking at him, he was staring intently at his notebook, tapping his pen against it impatiently, a frown marring his features. Merlin sighed and turned back to the team, disappointed.

"Okay – I think we've got a good mix of experience here, and between us I _know_ we can outdo the others if we stick together and work as a team," Lance glanced around the table at the assembled candidates and smiled. Gwen was beaming adoringly back at him, Leon and Morgana nodded their agreement and Merlin joined them. Lance needed to know they were all behind him one-hundred percent. "I think we should start by getting out there and seeing what products sell; talking to people and finding out what they buy. What do you think?"

"Good idea," Morgana said. "I personally think we should choose products that appeal to women, as women are more likely to buy smellies. I'd like to put myself forward for going out and getting together a focus group."

"Great – Merlin, could you go with her? I think Gwen should stay here with Leon and I; we'll get started on some ideas for you to offer the group."

Merlin was in the back of a car with Morgana sandwiched between him and Arthur before five minutes were out. Lance put her in charge of their 'sub team'. Merlin was glad of that because he was more of a soap and water person, and had no idea about fancy beauty products.

The car was charged with an awkward silence, before Morgana started to ask Arthur about his education, what degree he took, why he chose to follow his father into business. Arthur responded with stilted replies, clearly uncomfortable with being put on the spot; yet Morgana kept persisting.

Merlin squeezed his eyes shut. This was going to be a long few days.

 ****

::::

Somehow Morgana drummed up a focus group in Convent Garden and Merlin followed her lead, making the notes on the suggestions for preferred products and scents, talking to the 'girl on the street' about their product needs. It wasn't his favourite job ever, but it was distracting enough to appease the itch his magic was subjecting him to because all the while he was hyper aware of Arthur's brooding presence, only letting himself observe him from under his lashes.

Arthur wouldn't look at him; on the occasion their eyes met by accident, Arthur's face remained expressionless, his eyes moving past Merlin as though he wasn't there. Merlin wanted to cry. He'd obviously misread the handholding and _fucking everything_ ; or Arthur had simply had time to think and realised that there were better prospects out there for holding hands with than Merlin.

He really had to rein himself in from the desire to just _hide_ somewhere. If he let himself fall apart now he'd be fired this week for sure.

"Merlin, could you call Lance and tell him what we've found out?" Morgana requested. "I'll go grab us all a much deserved coffee and sandwich to take back with us alright?" She smiled sweetly and disappeared into a nearby café without waiting for Merlin's reply.

Arthur was talking to one of the crew, so Merlin found a quiet spot, rummaged the BlackBerry out of his breast pocket and spent three minutes trying to suss out how to make a call; this was only the second time he had used it. When he finally worked it out he imparted their findings to Lance and promised they would head back over as soon as the crew allowed.

When he hung up the phone, he noticed the red light was flashing. The stupid contraption had baffled him from day one, which was why he only kept it on for tasks and used his own phone for everything else. Now, what did a flashing red light mean? Did it need charging?

Merlin tipped the phone into the right light so he could see the screen properly in the sunlight, finding the battery icon and seeing it was almost fully charged, as he'd expected as he'd left it plugged in since the last task.

Then he saw the small envelope icon with a number 6 next to it. _Six_ messages? Frowning he managed to navigate his way into the first received message. He didn't recognise the number, but then the only numbers in this phone were the other candidates and Ewan.

 _Friday 9 July 2010, 5:48am - Unknown number_ : Being sent to Paris. I hope to see more of you when I get back. Arthur.

 _Friday 9 July 2010, 9.17pm - Unknown number_ : I can't stop thinking about you. Arthur.

 _Sunday 11 July 2010, 12.39pm - Unknown number_ Please say something?

 _Sunday 11 July 2010, 7.14pm - Voicemail_ : Voicemail has 1 new message(s). Please dial 1571.

 _Monday 12 July 2010, 2.33pm -Voicemail_ : Voicemail has 2 new message(s). Please dial 1571.

 _Tuesday 13 July 2010, 10.47am - Unknown number_ : I'll leave you in peace then. I'm sorry to waste your time.

What – the – fuck? Merlin had a bad feeling, a _very_ bad feeling. He hastily dialled 1571.

'You have two new messages. Message received on Sunday 11th July at 7.12pm.': "Merlin, it's me, Arthur. Look, _please_ call me back? I just need to know that you feel this thing too. I'm stuck over here in Paris and you aren't replying and," there was a heavy sigh. "I just – need to _know_ , that's all. Please, just text me or something? Okay – I – okay, bye."

Fuck. Merlin felt his heart rate speed up and his magic felt like it was simultaneously rejoicing and commiserating with him.

Arthur had been trying to make contact. There _had_ been _something_ : Arthur had been trying to make contact with him, assuming that Merlin knew how to use his BlackBerry. Now Arthur thought Merlin had rejected him. Fuck it all.

Following the electronic voice instructions Merlin found his way to the second message: 'Message received on Monday 12th July at 2.31pm.' "It's me again – obviously. I guess I got it all wrong – I thought – well it doesn't matter. Just call me?"

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Merlin scanned the area for Arthur, intending to waylay him now, communicate that he hadn't _known_ , that the fucking BlackBerry had been in silent mode, charging on his dresser and he'd been watching bloody Star Wars, that he was a total idiot who hadn't noticed the flashing light and didn't know how to work the bloody thing because it had too many buttons.

Of course, now that he wanted to talk him, Arthur was nowhere to be seen. Merlin approached the crew and asked where Arthur was and was told he received a phone call from Sir Uther and had been called away.

Merlin wanted to scream in frustration, contemplating ringing him or sending him a text, but that didn't seem right, not now. This would need to be done in person.

 ****

::::

When he and Morgana made it back to the factory it was to find that the thoroughly unpleasant Kanen had been sent by Sir Uther to temporarily replace Arthur who was needed on urgent business.

Merlin almost reinstated his urinary problems just for the fact that he was present instead of Arthur when he so needed Arthur to be there _now_ so he could talk to him, explain the stupid cock up and move on.

Kanen's method of observation was to stand there with his arms folded glaring at everybody. Merlin knuckled down and ignored him as the team bandied about product suggestions based on the feedback he and Morgana had received and experimented with ingredients, as well as thoroughly working out the costs. He couldn't concentrate for thinking about Arthur, which in turn had him worrying that this was obvious and that he would be singled out for not contributing – he was _trying_ but his brain seemed to have disengaged and was refusing to think about anything that didn't involve Arthur.

Luckily he was assigned the task of designing the packaging with Gwen, so they were able to move away from the bigger group and look at possible materials, and when Gwen asked him if he was okay, he simply told her he wasn't feeling too well, and Gwen being Gwen, fussed over him for a minute or two then left him alone as he requested.

What should he do now? Should he change his mind and ring Arthur? Should he send him a text? If he wasn't around at the house tonight then he was going to have to pick one of those options because this was too much, he had to tell Arthur he felt the same way about him as Arthur was feeling about Merlin. Okay, so Merlin was scared, and he was worried that setting foot down this road could lead to disaster in so many ways. Anything that happened between them could hamper his chances of winning 'The Apprentice'. Arthur already had the power to hurt him, Merlin knew that, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for something like that – after Edwin, he wasn't sure he'd ever be ready.

Yet, he was drawn to Arthur like he never had been to anyone else. When Arthur was in the room Merlin felt alive, his magic soared, his heart beat faster, life felt worth living again.

But Arthur could hurt him. Will's voice echoed in his head again, 'you don't have to marry the guy'. Merlin wished he had Will's attitude: he wasn't the type that went in for casual relationships.

As he and Gwen pored over packaging sample books, Merlin's thoughts stayed with Arthur; and his magic and his _heart_ were twitching to call him. Arthur thought that Merlin had rejected him. Merlin had hurt Arthur – and that was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

When he got back to the house, if Arthur wasn't there, Merlin was ringing him. End of.

 ****

::::

Arthur wasn't there. Kanen was. At dinner Kanen sat with Gaius and ignored the candidates. Merlin glared at him through narrowed eyes, hating him because he was a total git to Arthur. Maybe just a teeny tiny little wart on his chin..?

He didn't eat much dinner, and escaped upstairs to his room at the first opportunity, lying on his bed staring at the stupid bloody BlackBerry for what felt like hours but was probably only fifteen minutes or so, his finger hovering over the call button.

He had to do this, he had to. Squeezing his eyes shut he pressed the button and held the phone to his ear, his nerves fraying at the sound of the ringing at the other end, going on and on and on and then – to voicemail.

Fuck. Merlin was tempted to throw the phone at the wall, but he managed to maintain his cool and wait for the automated invitation to leave a message to playout, making his decision as he found the words, "Arthur, it's Merlin. Guess who's a luddite and didn't know they had messages until today? I – I _do_ feel it Arthur, so – er – call me?" He hastily hung up and stared at the phone accusingly when it didn't immediately spring to life with a return call from Arthur.

Maybe Arthur had had time to think now, and had decided for himself that he could do better than become entangled with someone like Merlin. Again, Merlin told himself that Arthur could have anyone; why would he want a pasty skinny waste of space like Merlin? Maybe that would be for the best.

  
**::::**   


Half an hour after making the phone call Merlin ventured back downstairs, feeling oddly vulnerable and in need of company. Gwen and Lance were in the living room, trying not to look as though they were curled up together; Merlin turned back before they saw him – flirty denial was not what he needed to see right now. Cen and Gwaine were playing Wii sports again, Sophia was watching with infatuated eyes on Gwaine.

There was no sign or Mordred or Morgause, but it wasn't like Merlin would ever seek out their company; Valiant was in the kitchen playing cards with _Kanen_. Merlin shuddered, thinking that they were two peas in a pod, and went to find Leon. He found him alone out on the balcony, sitting on one of the patio chairs, his head in his hands.

"What's the matter?" Merlin enquired, immediately concerned.

Leon lifted his head, eyes bloodshot, a damp sheen of sweat clinging to his forehead and cheeks, "I don't know, but I feel fucking terrible."

Merlin agreed that he looked awful. "Do you want some water?"

Leon nodded, and Merlin went back into the kitchen to get him a glass, but as he was at the sink running the water cold, he was startled by Leon's sudden dash from the patio into the nearest bathroom where it sounded as though he was parting with his dinner. Merlin followed him, leaning in the doorway with the glass in one hand, concern on his face at the sight of poor Leon slumped on the floor by the toilet.

"Is it something you've eaten?" he half mused, half asked. They'd all had a take-away for dinner that night, as they tended to in the middle of a task. Merlin had vegetable stir fry with rice. "Did you have seafood maybe?"

Leon shook his head, retching again, eventually croaking out, "Didn't feel quite right after that chicken sandwich at lunch but-" He turned puce and stuck his head down the loo again.

Merlin felt his own stomach turn, "Don't worry, these things are normally gone in twenty-four hours." As he said it, he remembered that they were mid-way through a task, and that the team were already one head lighter than the other one. "I'm gonna call Ewan, see what he thinks we should do, here, take this water – it might help."

Ewan called in the cavalry – within half an hour a BBC retained doctor was on the premises, taking Leon's temperature and getting him upstairs to his bed. Then a nurse arrived so that Leon could be taken care of overnight should he need assistance.

By the time this was all sorted, a couple of hours had passed, and Merlin's awareness that his BlackBerry had stayed depressingly silent came back to him. He'd lost interest in seeking out company; he just wanted to be alone with his unresponsive phone and his thoughts.

As he was leaving Leon's room, Leon called to him to ask if he could check the balcony for his BlackBerry which he thought he has left on the table, so Merlin graciously went downstairs to do his bidding, his hand freezing on the patio door as he heard Morgana's voice coming from outside, "...wait Alvarr – no – I'm biding my time. No, he has no idea, why would he? Arthur's not the suspicious type-"

Merlin pressed closer, but she'd stopped talking and was listening to the other person – Alvarr was her boyfriend, Merlin knew – and there was a series of mm-hmms before she broke off the call, "Okay, I'll try. Give the girls my love. I love you. Okay – bye."

Now Merlin's curiosity was screaming. What did Arthur have no idea about? _What was she up to?_ His new found friendship with the older woman began to teeter on a precipice as his mind worked overtime, full of possibilities. Was Morgana's real reason for being here something other than the competition?

 **::::**

When Merlin woke up the following morning there was a single text on his BlackBerry:

 _Thursday 15 July 2010, 6.10am – Arthur_ : I'm back tonight. We'll talk then.

Merlin's pulse quickened. He didn't know what to make of that. It was pretty ambiguous. Talk about good things or bad? _Arthur had the power to hurt him_.

The day was a crazy rush of productivity, whereby all the members of the team – without Leon who was still ill - donned white lab coats and protective gloves so they could set about manufacturing their two chosen products. They were down to four pairs of hands.

Influenced by Morgana, the team had chosen a luxurious patchouli scented bath oil and jasmine scented hand wash. Merlin busied himself with the packaging side of things, trying to keep his head clear of non-work related thoughts, with some modicum of success due to how busy they were. The recycled glass bottles were so much more aesthetically pleasing, however the cost was much more than a plastic equivalent, and in the end he'd suggested that they produce some with the more expensive glass bottles to sell at a slightly higher premium as gifts, and then have empty plastic bottles with pre-printed labels, and the products in clear glass tank-like dispensers so that the customer could choose what size they wanted and have the bottle filled there and then to order.

All of the team had agreed that was a good idea, and Merlin spent much of the day sourcing the bottles and producing labels. He also suggested they provide customers with recycled brown paper carrier bags to carry the purchases. This added extra cost but he thought it would add to the overall package, and the team agreed.

The whole day, Kanen was there in the background, watching the team and when Merlin felt those eyes on him his magic protested slightly, as it did with Valiant, and he had to take five minutes to talk himself down, outside in the fresh air.

Once Merlin had finished with the labels he was elbows deep in a vat of patchouli soap and the whole team were working like crazy to get the volume produced to the quantity that they had agreed on in the strategy, and it was harder work than any of them had really anticipated; hence they were still at it at 5.00pm, with a deadline of 6.00pm when the factory would shut.

Merlin tried not to think of Arthur's text, and that Arthur could be back at the house _right now_ and that there was a conversation they could be having.

The anticipation of that time was killing Merlin.

It was nearly 7.00pm when they got back. Merlin was exhausted and desperately in want of a hot shower.

When they walked through the door Arthur was in the kitchen, sitting at the table, half way through what looked like a BLT. He looked up as Merlin entered, their eyes clashing, maintaining the hold as Merlin moved further into the room behind Morgana and Gwen.

Morgana noticed; following the path of Arthur's gaze and finding Merlin at the other end, her brows drawing together in suspicion. Merlin, uncomfortable, announced his intention to go for a shower, grabbing a sandwich of the platter in the middle of the table and making his way upstairs to his room.

He wasn't ready yet. He just needed a few minutes grace and time to wash the day off his body. He wasn't hiding. _He wasn't._

Half an hour and one long shower later, Merlin felt bolstered. The BlackBerry was flashing, indicating a text.

 _Thursday 15 July 2010, 7.40pm – Arthur_ : my room, as soon as you are done.

Merlin swallowed nervously and pulled on his jeans. _Arthur's room._

It was less than five minutes before he found himself standing outside Arthur's door, and he faltered, suddenly unsure, wondering if this was the right thing to do or if this was the bad idea it seemed to be on paper; it would be easier if he just left it as it was and went back to his room, alone. His hand rose of its own accord and knocked loudly. Merlin sighed, defeated, and leant back against the wall opposite the door.

He imagined Arthur lay back on his bed, arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling, waiting for Merlin to arrive. His magic twitched, he wanted to wrench the door open himself.

He waited; listening intently for movement on the other side. Footsteps padded towards the door and Merlin let go of the breath he was holding as it opened to reveal a tired looking – yet somehow still the most beautiful man Merlin had ever seen - Arthur.

For a moment they simply stared at each other, Merlin taking in Arthur's weary eyes, his usual polish missing. Merlin pushed back from the wall. "Are you going to let me in?"

Arthur stood back silently and let Merlin pass. He walked over to the window and turned to face Arthur. "I don't use that BlackBerry outside of the tasks," he exploded, feeling the need to explain again to the impassive face Arthur was presenting. "I found your texts yesterday morning. I'm sorry."

He watched as uncertainty flickered across Arthur's face and he licked his lips, his eyes fixed on Merlin's. "I do feel _this thing_." Merlin took a tentative step towards him. "I hated it yesterday when you wouldn't look at me-"

Arthur visibly relaxed. He stepped forward to meet Merlin's uncertain approach. "I thought – when you didn't reply – that it was all in my head, that maybe you didn't pull away before because of my – 'position of power'."

Merlin shook his head, "No, I liked it." Anticipation curled in his belly as he and Arthur gravitated towards one another across the bedroom floor. Arthur reached out his hand and circled Merlin's wrist, pulling him the final distance to they were standing flush against one another.

"You know, we're treading on very thin ice here, doing this," Arthur said, as he leant in to Merlin's ear and licked along the ridge of the lobe, causing Merlin's breath to hitch in his throat and his body to sway slightly. Arthur ran his thumb over the sensitive flesh of Merlin's inner wrist.

Arthur pressed a soft kiss to Merlin's dry lips, his spare hand threading in the hair at the nape of Merlin's neck. "God, Merlin, you drive me crazy," he whispered, pulling back slightly. "I've never-"

He pulled back, "We can't start this now – tonight – much as I want to." He ran his thumb over Merlin's lips, never once breaking eye contact. "I promised myself I was inviting you here to talk..."

Merlin wanted to magically lock the door and keep Arthur within the room, now that he was this close to him and he'd finally felt those lips on his he wanted them there, in place, where they belonged. Instead he nodded, confidence boosted by the kiss, yet still unsure really about what was happening between them. Yes it was clear that Arthur liked him, wanted to kiss him, _wanted_ him; but what Merlin didn't know was if it was any more than that, and yes he had tried to embrace Will's words, thinking maybe he could go with the flow, but already he knew he wouldn't want to let go when the time came. Arthur was...a _keeper_.

He pulled back slightly, "We can talk. I like talking." But his actions betrayed his words as he found himself leaning in and kissing Arthur, unable to help himself, placing his hands flat on his chest and marvelling at the feel of his heart pounding underneath his fingers. He ran his tongue over the seam of Arthur's lips, desperate for more contact.

When he felt Arthur's uncertainty, he reluctantly stopped, a warm flush creeping across his cheekbones.

Arthur tipped his head forward and rested his forehead against Merlin's. "Thank you for – putting my out of my misery. I thought I'd got it all wrong."

"Is this the talk?" Merlin teased. "Because I think if you meant it about the talking thing, we don't need to be touching."

"Yes," said Arthur, making no move to pull away, instead moving his hands to Merlin's hips and drawing him closer so that the two of them were pressed together. "You start."

"Ehm – I can't think straight when you're this close," Merlin croaked.

"Well," Arthur managed. "I think that about sums it up." He slid his hands under the seam of Merlin's t-shirt, running his hands over Merlin's hipbones, eliciting a whimper from Merlin, his magic singing at the contact. This was a touch like none other before. Arthur kissed him then and it was all heat, movement, passion and wanting – the kiss was slow and exploratory, tasting one another in wonder, Merlin threading his hands into Arthur's thick blond hair as they discovered one another's taste and feel, their tongues locking together, minute gasps and harsh breaths the only sound that could be heard over the desperate pounding of Merlin's heart.

Arthur was somehow backing Merlin up against the bed, pressing against him, kissing him like the world was ending. No one had ever kissed Merlin like this, everything seemed to fall into place, and the voice in Merlin's head – thankfully _not_ Will's – was screaming ArthurArthurArthur whilst his head span from the intensity of the kiss, and the fact that there were suddenly hands everywhere as Arthur increased the tempo. Merlin could feel Arthur's arousal digging into his hip, and his own was pressing uncomfortably against the rigid denim of his jeans, begging for Arthur's touch.

Arthur's urgent exploring hands found their way underneath Merlin's t-shirt to run rough thumb pads over his nipples; and Merlin felt any resolve he had about to disappear into a sliver of smoke.

It was Arthur's hands on the hem of his t-shirt that sent Merlin reeling, an awareness that he was about to be _undressed_ in front of Arthur, and where this kissing was leading...his nerves flared up and Merlin gave Arthur a hefty shove, almost sending him flying; as it was he stumbled and steadied himself on with a hand on the wardrobe, "What-?" he gasped, dazed.

"I can't – I'm sorry," Merlin mumbled, his eyes on Arthur, trying not to show the panic he was feeling, expecting Arthur's wrath any moment now for being some kind of tease, "I-"

Arthur seemed to recover, his blue eyes softening, and Merlin knew he wasn't hiding his fear as well as he'd hoped, "Too much too soon?" he said quietly. He took a tentative step towards Merlin who was frozen to the spot by the bed.

Merlin hadn't expected this understanding reaction. He nodded silently, trying to edge further back, but the bed blocked his path.

"You look afraid of me," Arthur observed, stilling his approach to Merlin. "No – Merlin – it's okay. I'm not angry, I understand." The expression on his face was so sincere Merlin felt his magic thrum through his body, contented again – it hadn't liked Merlin's rejection of Arthur.

Seeing Merlin relax Arthur moved forwards again, not once breaking eye contact as Merlin watched him warily, until he was in front of Merlin again. He rested his forehead against Merlin's again and closed his eyes. "Back to just talking then?" he offered with a wry smile.

"For now," Merlin breathed, closing his own eyes. "For now."

  
**::::**   


When Merlin woke up he was in Arthur's bed, curled into the sleeping blond like they were designed to fit together like this. By the light outside Merlin could tell that it was almost time to get up, and that the house will begin to stir soon; so he rolled quietly out of bed and realised with a sigh of relief that he was dishevelled and unbuttoned but still fully dressed. Stealthily he crept over to the door and reached out with his magic to check no one was nearby. With one longing look back at Arthur he slid out and back to his own room.

One there he flung off his clothes and threw himself backwards onto the bed with a bounce. They had fallen asleep together, exhausted by the late hour, talked out. What was Arthur's favourite place? What was Merlin's first memory? Question after question, sometimes superficial yet oh so important.

There had been more kissing, and hand holding, and hands in hair; but Arthur had been gentle, careful not to push Merlin, and for the first time in a long time – in forever – Merlin felt _right_.

Now though, away from Arthur, in the cold light of day he began to wonder. What would someone like Arthur want with him? He was a nothing…nobody; someone only a mother could love. A mother who he had all but killed with his own hand. He was fucking useless. What was he thinking – that _Merlin Emrys_ could be happy – that he _deserved_ to be happy?

He stood up and assessed his naked form in the full length wardrobe mirror, his face screwed up as he viewed himself, his too skinny arms, his bony hips and legs – he was repulsive. Nobody could want him. Edwin had told him as much enough times. If this thing with Arthur went any further then Merlin wouldn't be able to hide this from him.

At the thought of Edwin, the mirror burst into a million tiny pieces, coating the room like glitter, and Merlin sank to the floor, locking his arms around his knees as the silent tears fell.

Today was his twenty-fifth birthday.

  
**::::**   


Today was the pay off – where they would take their products and attempt to make as much money as possible between now and 6.00pm.

Merlin skipped breakfast and any chances of running into Arthur, the memory of the view in the mirror fresh in his mind, and was ready and waiting by the car, listening to Joe telling him how Valiant had started a huge stand up row with Mordred the previous day, and how Joe had never heard so much profanity coming from one so young and innocent looking; it seemed that when provoked, Mordred could more than hold his own against Valiant.

Wisely, Merlin thought, when Lance split them into two teams, he separated himself from Gwen, and had a woman on each team. Merlin privately thought that the women of the team were best placed for selling toiletries; though he had every intention of working his bollocks off today, he couldn't pretend to be some kind of bath product guru.

Leon was back, looking tired and pale but determined to help out with the selling. Lance kept Leon with himself and Morgana, sending Merlin and Gwen to the vibrant Spitalfields Market and himself, Leon and Morgana to Camden.

Arthur was assigned to go with Lance's half of the team, and Merlin didn't see him before he and Gwen left with their camera crew and a lot of work to do. Luckily, the produce sold at Spitalfields was complimentary to theirs, and Merlin found that they enjoyed a lot of browsers and the products were selling themselves to a certain extent. Nevertheless, knowing that just standing there if they lost would mean he would be straight in the boardroom, so he did the Apprentice 'thing' and took the product to the people, inviting people to sniff the bath oil and the hand wash, trying to lure them in. He felt totally out of his comfort zone, but he knew he had to do this.

For the morning, business was brisk. After about 2.00pm it began to slow down, and he put a call in to Lance, as he or Gwen had been doing hourly anyway, to tell him how much stock they had left – about thirty percent - and having asked around other stall holders he was advised that the market always had a lull about now and that it would pick up again after 3.00pm. Lance agreed that they should stay there, and whilst the lull was on, Gwen took a turn trying to lure buyers in.

Merlin wished for nothing more than to go home – back to Will in Worcestershire – and to crack open a bottle of wine and to drown his sorrows. It was his fucking _birthday_ and he wanted his best friend, his _brother_ to tell him he would be okay. Will always made everything okay.

Masochistically, he wanted to see Arthur. He wanted to see for himself how Arthur had already lost interest in him; and if he hadn't then it would only be a matter of time. Last night's closeness had been a mistake. He just had to put it behind him and move on.

  
**::::**   


They didn't sell all the stock in the end, but he and Gwen had about six percent left, and Lance's half of the team about the same – they had started out with more because there were three of them to sell it. Lance had sent Morgana to sell to shops after 4.00pm and she had closed a deal for a large order and shifted almost all the remaining stock at the eleventh hour.

All they could do now was hope that the figures were high enough to beat Sorcery in the boardroom. Mordred was an unknown, he could shine or bomb spectacularly – and he did have Valiant – and there was definitely dissent in the ranks if what Joe had told him that morning were anything to go by.

Merlin was last in the door at the house that night, dawdling with getting out of the car, hoping to sneak in and straight to his room so he could phone Will and bemoan what a fool he'd been with Arthur.

He hadn't banked on the earth shattering 'SURPRISE!!' when he'd walked into the hallway to find everyone standing in the kitchen doorway letting off party poppers all over him. Shit. This was the last thing he needed.

Merlin felt, rather than saw, Arthur on the periphery of the party, felt the questioning burn of his stare as Merlin avoided looking at him and pasted on a smile to greet the other candidates and members of the crew who were present, taking the glass of wine offered to him and knocking it back in three swigs before announcing he was just going upstairs to get changed, letting everyone float back into the kitchen, a choir of happy voices as they all trotted back from whence they came.

Arthur didn't move, and Merlin could have sobbed when he realised he was between him and the stairs. Their eyes met then, the final banging of the door behind the last reveller not even detracting from their locked eyes.

"Merlin-" Arthur began, stepping forward, coming perilously close to his personal space and Merlin held a hand up to stop him. "Merlin, what's happening here? Last night...then you sneak now _this_ -"

"I'm not doing this –whatever _this_ is – last night was a mistake. I'm here to _win_ Arthur. How can I credibly do that if I start fucking around with you? If we got found out-"

Arthur recoiled, "You think that was just about 'fucking around'?"

No, not for Merlin it hadn't been, but best to nip it in the bud now before he really got hurt; before Arthur realised how worthless he was and moved on. Despite that resolution, Merlin couldn't bring himself to nod at Arthur's question and instead found himself shaking his head, knowing guilt was stamped all over his face.

"I just can't, Arthur, okay?" he stepped past him and made his way upstairs to change, his heart thundering in his chest, his magic trying to drag him back down the stairs and into Arthur's arms. He ignored the magic and the tight band that was squeezing around his heart.

He stayed upstairs longer than was probably polite given that it was a party for _him_ , and eventually went back down. Arthur was nowhere to be seen. Merlin told himself he was glad; ignoring the suspiciously Will-like voice that said, 'liar'.

Instead of phoning Will, he settled for sending him a text about being ambushed for a party, and pasting a smile on his face, went and joined in.

  
**::::**   


When he finally managed to make his excuses and escape to bed, he'd barely closed the door behind him when someone knocked, and unthinking he threw it open to reveal a pissed off Arthur Pendragon.

Without waiting for an invite, he pushed past Merlin, arms folded in front of his chest, turning to face Merlin as he shut the door again and turned to face his unwelcome guest.

"I'm not going to let you just do this, Merlin," Arthur stated. "We've got something here – and I don't know why you're running scared – _yet_. I don't buy that it's about the competition - we can get around that. So I'm just here to tell you – I'm not going anywhere."

He broke off and looked expectantly and _nervously_ at Merlin. That unexpected vulnerability shot an arrow straight through Merlin's heart. His barriers fell away and he closed the gap between them, placing his hand over Arthur's rapidly beating heart – a spot that had become his favourite hand rest.

Looking into Arthur's eyes he simply nodded and leant in for a kiss.

  
**::::**   


The boardroom the following day was probably the makings of absolute TV gold due to the vast amount of arguing between members of Sorcery – Mordred, Valiant, Sophia and to an extent – Cen. Merlin missed most of it because their team won so he wasn't present for the 'you're fired' moment. He was only present for the tense atmosphere between members of the other team, or more precisely, the other team and Valiant.

Phoenix won by a small margin and were praised by Sir Uther for rallying together in the absence of Leon, and Leon was praised for coming back to work when he was still unwell for the sake of the team.

The air around Arthur and Merlin hummed with his magic, and Merlin would be surprised if Arthur wasn't aware of it on some level. Yet for all the awkwardness of their situation Merlin could feel Arthur's eyes burning into him, and he would turn and catch Arthur's eye for just that moment longer than to be an accident, and they would let their gazes linger upon one other, before the need to get on or the need to not be noticed by the others kicked in and they snapped back to what they were supposed to be doing: acting appropriately.

Last night they had enjoyed some light kissing before Arthur pulled away and retreated to his room, saying it was because Merlin needed his energy for the boardroom the next day; they both knew it was a lie but neither went against it.

Merlin had lain awake anyway, his head whirring with confusion: when Arthur was near, Merlin was putty in his hands, but when he had time to think things over he simply knew he was heading for a fall. He didn't want to fall, but he knew he couldn't stay away from Arthur if Arthur wanted him.

As the winning team they got to enjoy a private capsule in the London eye and a twilight limo ride from there to Sir Uther's favourite Cantonese in Soho.

When they got back to the house later to find Gwaine, Morgause and Valiant all tensely waiting to see who would be fired from the trio of Cen, Mordred or Sophia, they all sat around incredulously listening to the goings on of the last few days, all wondering why the hell Mordred hadn't taken Valiant into the boardroom, but none of them daring to voice it with Valiant sat there gloating.

Mordred deserved to be fired for letting Valiant live to bully another day.

Cen and Sophia came back, Cen immediately having no qualms at repeating how Sir Uther had cited Mordred's stupidity at not bringing Valiant into the boardroom when he had been so difficult for Mordred to manage as a key factor in his being fired. Valiant had called Cen a 'fucking lying homo' and stormed upstairs.

When Merlin retired to bed a few hours later; there was a message on his BlackBerry.

 _Saturday 17 July 2010, 9.07pm – Arthur_ : Merlin, I'm being sent to Paris again for three days. Call you tomorrow night.

Merlin's traitorous heart skipped a beat.

  
**::::**   



	8. Week Seven

**Week Seven**

When the faux phone call came in four days after the last task at 5.30am, the instructions were to pack for three days and two nights in a hot climate. This sparked off an excited murmur between the candidates, and the journey to the airport was spent excitedly speculating where they might be going. 

Merlin kept quiet – he already knew the destination thanks to a slip of the tongue on Arthur's part during one of his daily phone calls to Merlin from Paris. 

At Heathrow, they were met by Sir Uther and Gaius. Sir Uther explained that Arthur had been away on business and would fly directly to their destination of Menara Airport Marrakech and meet them at the hotel before the task started.

The seventh task was 'the shopping task' which was to buy ten items off a list in and around the Marrakech souk and the team that spent the least amount of money would be crowned the winners. The task would take place over the course of one whole day from 8am to 6pm, however they were to be in Marrakech for two nights, which meant the rest of their day today would be spent with their teams planning a strategy, and then they were free to do what they wanted with their time – although this time was _not_ to include going anywhere near the souk and scoping out the items they were expected to buy.

Of the ten remaining candidates there were just two who had not yet been project leader: Cenred and Sophia. For this reason, Sir Uther moved Sophia over to Phoenix and sent Merlin to Sorcery in her place. Merlin felt a lead weight settle in the pit of his stomach at his new team – he liked Gwaine well enough, Morgause was a good candidate but her personality was rather rigid, Valiant was, well, _Valiant_ and Cen was great but he was still trying to get closer to Merlin. While Merlin hadn't started to avoid him as such, he always made sure other people were present so as not to be left alone with the man.

The flight was a good four hours, which with all the hanging around at the airport beforehand and the traffic hogging at the other, was eight hours give or take a few minutes. So by the time they checked into their hotel – the Riad dar Saad - in Marrakech it was late afternoon and Merlin's eyes were drooping.

All of the candidates retired to their rooms to freshen up and Merlin had agreed with his team to meet up in one hour's time for the strategy meeting. As soon as he was in his bedroom door he flopped on his bed and took a moment to admire the opulence of the decor: cream walls, golden drapes above the bed, burnt orange curtains over the windows and the doors, leading out onto a private balcony. Even to his tired eyes, it was gorgeous, and Merlin wasn't normally one for lavish interior decor. Nevertheless, he took a photo and texted it to Will to gloat.

He began to wish he was here for a holiday and not on what was likely to be an extremely stressful couple of days.

Merlin knew Arthur wasn't due to arrive until mid-evening. His arrival was something he desperate for; the phone calls between them had been short but frequent and Arthur had been so _interested_ in hearing what Merlin had been doing. Arthur was being patient and caring and so fucking perfect yet Merlin still felt sick at the thought of the inevitable progression to the next stage, a combination of fear of rejection and anticipation that had him on edge.

Confusion was his new best friend. He _wanted_ so badly, yet he waited for the axe to fall, for Arthur to snap out of whatever it was he felt for him and to send him packing. Yet he couldn't stop himself gravitating into Arthur's orbit. 

He didn't even know Arthur that well – how much time had they actually spent alone together? None of that mattered though, and he couldn't stay away whilst Arthur still wanted him around. He _couldn't_.

He threw off his clothes and went into the bathroom which revealed a sunken mosaic bath filled with rose petals. Instead of waiting for it to fill the normal way he magically filled it in the flash of an eye, lowering himself into the steaming bath and submerging himself under the rose fragranced water, letting the travel grime float away. 

He needed to focus. The contest was past the halfway point, the competition was getting tougher and the prize was that little bit closer to his grasp – that prize had the power to change his and Will's lives. He could invest in both businesses – his own gallery and the antique shop; the eventual plan being to merge both of the businesses somehow.

Telling himself to focus and actually following his own orders was not so easy.

After fifty minutes of the agreed hour, Cen came knocking on his way to the meeting room, claiming he was 'just passing' but Merlin could have sworn his room was two floors below. However, he greeted him with a friendly smile; he was ready and waiting and itching to get out of the room and into some company and away from his confused thoughts.

The meeting was succinct and to the point – when Cen wasn't playing the flirt he knew his stuff, and with ten items to procure and ten hours to do it in, the task didn't sound that difficult. However, no one knew how easy to come by any of the items were, how specific some of them might be or how much the prices might differ from stall to stall and how long the haggling might take. 

Merlin should have seen it coming, but he had hoped that with Cen in project manager business mode he might not have gone down this road – but when he split the team into two, it was Gwaine, Valiant and Morgause as a trio, leaving Merlin with Cen. No one in their right mind would have paired Valiant up with just one other person, and it made sense that he was kept away from Merlin and Cen because of their altercations in the past – but – ten hours on his own with Cen – Merlin could've cried.

Except – for some of that time Arthur would be observing; and the crew would be there... Maybe it wouldn't be as bad as Merlin feared it might be.

Despite an uneven number of team members, Cen split the list of items to procure into two equal parts. Gwaine, Valiant and Morgause had to find a cowhide, a silver framed camel boned mirror, an orange juicer, a cricket bat and a pair of soft purple slippers. That left Merlin and Cen with a rug, an alarm clock, drinking vessels, a singing bowl and a burnoose – whatever one of those was.

They spent some time discussing staying in touch as a team and how they could help each other out if need be – and Cen emphasised the importance of running any major decisions past him first.

By the time the meeting was over, time for exploring outside of the hotel was limited, so the team relocated to the bar on the terrace – where most of the other team were already making themselves comfortable – and settled down for some relaxation before dinner which was over an hour away. Merlin found relaxation hard to come by when Cen sat himself beside him, thigh to thigh, his arm along the back of the cushion behind him – and thank heaven for Morgana who had called him over for 'a word in private' which had been a very gallant rescue attempt for which Merlin could have hugged her. 

He kind of wished he wasn't more than a little suspicious of her motivations. 

A little later, they dined on Moroccan cuisine, Merlin enjoying couscous and roasted vegetables and staying off the wine – he wanted to be sober when Arthur arrived. Alcohol in his bloodstream might mean he was less than subtle at his reactions to the other's arrival. 

Valiant spent the time silently glowering over Sir Uther's words against him at the end of the last task – which was made obvious by an outburst he'd made during drinks at the bar about 'some people' using him as a scapegoat - emanating a 'come near me and die' vibe, which Merlin thought was unnecessary. Who would willingly seek out Valiant's company – other than the equally unpleasant Kanen?

When his phone vibrated in his pocket when they were contemplating dessert – he'd given Arthur his own mobile number now because he could actually work his own phone – Merlin surreptitiously checked and found a text from Will flipping him the bird in reaction to the earlier photo, and one from Arthur saying he had arrived and to give him forty-five minutes to freshen up and then come up to his room – number 524.

Merlin couldn't help the way his face split in two at the thought of seeing Arthur in less than an hour, swiftly followed by a rush of butterflies and fear. Nevertheless, it was the longest three-quarters of an hour ever, which unfortunately gave Cen another opportunity to corner Merlin when Morgana went to powder her nose. Apparently, according to Cen, he had 'eyes to drown in'. At that point Merlin rather wished for a watery death.

He made his excuses about feeling tired and fled, arriving at Arthur's door forty-five minutes to the second after receiving the text. God, he wanted to see him so badly, his heart was pounding out his chest. He reached out with his magic and could sense Arthur on the other side of the door, getting the feeling he was pacing. Was Arthur was nervous as he was? Merlin found that difficult to believe.

He raised his fist and knocked, rocking nervously back onto his heels as he waited for Arthur to answer the door. The door opened to frame Arthur and Merlin could swear his heart stopped beating at the sight of him; dark blue hip hugging jeans, a tight black t-shirt and bare feet, with his hair oh so slightly ruffled as though he'd been running his fingers through it after combing it.

Merlin licked his lips as he met Arthur's wide blue eyes.

Arthur held the door open, gesturing silently for Merlin to enter. Merlin slipped past into the room, which actually turned out to be a suite decorated in a similar style to his own room but which had an adjoining lounge area and stone steps leading upwards, to what Merlin didn't know.

Shutting the door behind Merlin, Arthur leant back against it, and they stood, taking each other in, words unnecessary. Merlin took a step towards Arthur, the gravitational pull too much to hold him at bay. 

Arthur pushed away from the door and met Merlin halfway, bringing up a tanned hand and brushing his knuckles over Merlin's cheek. "I missed you," he said huskily, and Merlin could see his eyes scanning his face for a reaction, some recognition that Merlin felt the same.

"Me too," he replied with an involuntary smile, leaning into Arthur's touch.

Arthur ran his thumb over Merlin's lips, before replacing it with the tip of his tongue, slowly tasting him, pressing his way inside as Merlin opened up to allow him access, a hand coming up to bunch in Arthur's t-shirt just over his heart, the other finding its way around the back of Arthur's neck, pulling him closer.

His knees felt like they wanted to give way beneath him, arousal shooting through him at both the contact and Arthur's mere proximity. His magic tingled beneath his fingertips, like it too wanted more contact with Arthur's skin. 

Arthur pulled back, breathless, his pupils blown. "You're all I can think about. I've been in meeting after meeting, and they might as well have been talking in Flemish for all I listened. I could only thinking of seeing you and doing this," he nuzzled Merlin's neck and nibbled his earlobe gently, his breath hot on Merlin's neck when he added, "And this..." He took Merlin's lower lip between his teeth, his hands cupping Merlin's arse and drawing him in closer.

Merlin groaned and melted against Arthur, inhaling his freshly showered clean skinned scent, heat pooling in his belly as the want reminded him of its presence. As if he could forget.

"You're so beautiful," Arthur rasped as he pulled back slightly to look make eye contact. "So-"

Merlin froze. A distant voice echoed back at him, 'You're such a freak, who would want _you_?' He wasn't fucking 'beautiful'. Soon enough Arthur would see that: Arthur would reject him. He was suddenly cold, despite the balmy Moroccan evening air, wriggling out of Arthur's embrace crossing his arms protectively across his chest. "I can't."

It was déjà vu to their first kiss.

Arthur must have seen the panic on his face, because the surprised, frustrated anger faded, "Okay, I can slow down, I-"

"No, you can do so much better than me. What would you want with someone like _me_ , Arthur? Look at you – you're a fucking Adonis who could have anyone they wanted and I'm this," he gestured with his hand to indicate his body before returning to hugging himself, unable to meet Arthur's eyes.

Arthur closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Who was it?"

"Who was what?" _Edwin_. "I – I don't want to talk about it."

Arthur sighed heavily, "If it's as you say, and I could have _anyone_ , why would I be here with _you_ if I didn't want you?" He was slowly making his way back into Merlin's personal space. "I can't pretend to know where this is coming from, just know that I'm here to listen when you're ready to tell me. I want to be with you, Merlin. No one else – just you." His hands closed over Merlin's, where they rested on opposing shoulders, tugging them down and replacing them with his own, his lips meeting Merlin's again, tentatively, requesting a response.

Merlin caved. There was only so much resistance in him where this man was concerned, and Arthur's lips felt so good.

He parted his lips and returned Arthur's kiss in kind, losing himself in the desire that gathered in the pit of his stomach, getting lost in the kiss that swiftly turned from sweet and teasing to filthy as they both clamoured for closer contact. 

Before long Merlin was lying on the bed with no recollection of how he even got there. The kiss was endless, exploring one another's mouths with mounting passion, reverently, nibbling each other's lips, deviating from course, tasting necks, ear lobes and collar bones, returning back to tie their tongues together, the pace picking up slowly as the culmination of weeks of need clamoured to be assuaged.

All Merlin was conscious of was he had never been this turned on in his life before, and, oh _God_ , Arthur had his hand under the waistband of his jeans, wrapped around his cock, and then he was releasing it from its confines, slowly pumping it's length, and through his lust-fuelled, narrowed gaze Merlin watched as Arthur licked his lips and settled himself between Merlin's parted thighs – again, _how the fuck had that happened_? Arthur flicked his gaze up to Merlin's and smiled wickedly, bending his head.

Oh God, oh God, oh God – _Arthur_. Merlin couldn't get his breath; Arthur Pendragon – Arthur Pen-fucking-dragon - was sucking his cock. After swirling his tongue over the head, and teasing his balls with his fingers, Arthur engulfed Merlin's considerable length down to the root. Merlin's hands unconsciously found their way into Arthur's blond hair, curling through the strands looking for purchase, his hips striving to pump into Arthur's warm heat but being held down by Arthur's strong grip as he pulled back up again and began exploring Merlin's length with his tongue, drawing unconscious groans from the depth of his throat. Small teasing swipes of the tongue were followed by the all-encompassing heat over and over, Merlin's hips bucking off the bed as much as the restraining hands would allow. 

Time ceased to exist, and at some point he knew he wouldn't last a moment longer, no way he could hold off coming when such close and loving attention was being paid to his cock, and as Arthur took him fully into his throat again, Merlin felt his balls tighten and the explosion hit, and he could hear someone far away calling Arthur's name and only vaguely realised that it must have been him.

He'd never come like that – _never_ – and it went on and on, like coming was the new breathing, and he watched through sated eyes as Arthur swallowed every last drop and rose on his knees, his own previously neglected cock gripped in his palm; pumping it just twice before he spilled himself all over Merlin's abdomen where his t-shirt has ridden up to reveal the flat pale plain of his stomach, streams of pearly white taking aim and finding the goal; and Merlin, unable to stop himself, reached down a hand and scooped some off his belly, licking his fingers clean, eyes on Arthur the whole time, smiling.

Spent, Arthur flopped down beside him, "Fuck, Merlin, what you do to me."

Merlin, when his breath eased up slightly, felt Arthur's fingers curl around his, and Arthur turn on his side and nuzzle his neck. He felt happy in that moment, satisfied – like he'd found home – and closing his eyes, he let sleep take him.

  
**::::**   


"Bloody hell," muttered Cen through gritted teeth, his back deliberately to the camera. "We're gonna lose this task at this rate. Jesus, I could knock his fucking block off." He'd just gotten off the phone with the other half of the team to be told that Valiant had told the one and only stockist they'd found in the whole bloody city of the cricket bat they required that they could find to go fuck himself because he wouldn't go down to a low enough price, and Valiant had been escorted off the premises by security.

Merlin fought back a smirk, "We're going to have to go and buy that ourselves then aren't we?" The shop was on the other side of the souk, the mid afternoon sun was pounding down on them, they were hot, bothered and if Valiant's behaviour was anything to go by, extremely irritable.

"Looks like it," said Cen, rolling his eyes congenially at Merlin even though Merlin could tell he was livid. "Let's just take stock first. We've got the burnoose and the glasses. We know where we can get the alarm clock and the bowl, but there could be other stockists who might come down lower – if not we'll go back later. That leaves the rug – now, according to the fella who sold us the glasses, we're supposed to spend a couple of hours at least haggling over the price of the rug otherwise we might not be taken seriously."

Merlin nodded, frowning. "What do the sub-team still need?"

"Well, apart from the effing cricket bat, they still need the orange juicer and they have to go back to a couple of places to haggle for the cowhide – they haven't seen a juicer anywhere, and neither have we so-"

"I think we should go and buy the clock and the bowl now in case we run out of time. Then if we go and do the rug haggling we should have time to get over to the other side and buy the cricket bat." 

Cen smiled, and declared "I bloody love you, Merlin." He then pulled Merlin into an uncomfortable hug. Fuck it all. Merlin was hyper aware of the cameras on them, and the hovering crew – thankfully Arthur was with the other team now although he was due to join them any minute now. 

It was too hot for hugging and Merlin carefully extricated himself from Cen's unwelcome embrace with a tight smile, "No time for that," he half joked, baffled because his suggestions prior to the embrace were in no means genius enough to warrant a hug. When he turned away he was met by a wiggle of the eyebrows from Ewan.

Merlin glared back at him, blinking so that the elastic in Ewan's box shorts suddenly gave out. Ha.

Cen didn't seem to notice anything amiss in Merlin's demeanour; he called Morgause back and suggested the sub-team split up – one person to get the cowhide and the others the juicer. 

Arthur turned up half an hour later. Merlin sensed his presence before turning around to find him talking to Ewan, catching Merlin's eye over Ewan's shoulder with a raised eyebrow. Merlin nodded his greeting, hoping that nothing would seem amiss – that no one could read from that slight acknowledgment that Merlin had spent the night in Arthur's bed for the second time – and had only returned to his own room to shower and dress before breakfast.

Waking up wrapped in Arthur's arms could be something he wanted to get used to. That morning, Arthur had kissed him awake, but there had been no time for anything more – the sun had risen and the long task driven day loomed in front of Merlin.

He didn't know how Arthur had done it, but he'd gotten past his first barrier, pushed his way through, uncaring of Merlin's objections. He seemed to genuinely want to get to know him. That morning, for the first time in two years Merlin had been able to push away the guilt and self-loathing that lingered over him like a headache and even if it was just for a little while, he felt good.

Cen took control of haggling for the rug, and it was a lengthy drawn out process, but finally after about an hour and a half they came to an agreement, and they left the shop triumphant that they had made a good deal.

In the corner of his eye Merlin could see Ewan fidgeting with his waistband, obviously trying to hoik up his underwear beneath. He felt no remorse and a tiny surge of triumph at the idiot's discomfort.

There was an hour left to get to the cricket bat place and buy the damned thing. It was further away than they realised, and when they got there the shop was closing up. Luckily the proprietor agreed to let them inside and between them they managed to swiftly haggle a good price. 

All that remained to do now was to go back to the hotel and debrief. They would fly home the next day and the boardroom would be the day after that.

  
**::::**   


The debrief was a nightmare. It followed a half an hour break for them to freshen up with a quick shower before they met to discuss the dealings of the day. It transpired that instead of buying a cow hide, they had come back with a cow hide rug – it probably was a full cow hide but it was cut into diamond shapes and stitched together in a patchwork – hence was not what the brief had asked for.

It came as no surprise that Valiant had been responsible for buying the cow hide when the other two had gone off in search of the orange juicer – which they had found at the last minute and got a good price for.

"Valiant," Cen said impatiently, when the other man had triumphantly unravelled the hide to reveal the fact that it was totally wrong. "The list asked for a complete cow hide – this is a patchwork!"

"Bollocks," snapped Valiant. "No one said it had to be an all in one!"

"It clearly says on the list that-"

"I never saw the list. You're just trying to pin this on me so that if we lose you can all point the finger and say it was my fault!"

"Well it is your fault you incompetent fool!"

The argument escalated, and with only brief interjections from Gwaine, Morgause and himself, went on for an age. It moved on from the cow hide to Valiant's behaviour when attempting to buy the cricket bat and after a while degenerated into a personal slanging match.

"Guys!" Merlin tried hopefully. "This is getting ridiculous, how about we leave it now?" He looked at Morgause and Gwaine for help, but Gwaine was looking at his phone and texting – probably Sophia – and Morgause was looking on with disdain but was clearly not about to help him out. 

Valiant, almost purple faced by now, turned on him then, "What you gonna do about it you-"

"That's _enough_." With a voice like steel Arthur stepped forward from his observation point in the corner; all eyes turned to him. Merlin's palms hurt with the desire to touch him; he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked away.

"Oh, what a fucking surprise," sneered Valiant. "Pendragon Jnr jumping to _Mer_ lin's defence."

Arthur raised an eyebrow at Valiant, as if to say 'you really want to go down this road?' and to Merlin's surprise, Valiant seemed to shrink back. 

"I'm dying for a beer," Gwaine announced, as though the argument had never taken place. "Are we finished here?"

Cen sighed, "Well, it's too late to change anything now; we'll have to face the music in boardroom with what we've got." Merlin felt sorry for him; it was his neck on the line first and foremost, though he genuinely believed that if anyone was getting fired from this team it wasn't going to be Cen. Valiant's number was surely up. "Let's go and grab some dinner. I need a stiff drink too."

  
**::::**   


At dinner Merlin found himself seated between Arthur and Gwen. Arthur curled his ankle around Merlin's under the table.  
Gwen was wearing a pretty strapless top and a short skirt, the smile on her face lighting up the room. Merlin watched her as she watched Lance who was chatting to Leon over at the bar. Then he spotted it, the tattoo just below her should blade – the eye of Horus.

His eyes widened as Lance's rendition of his Godfather's words came back to him, 'he told me my future belonged to the girl with three eyes'. 

"When did you get that tattoo?" he asked Gwen, aiming for nonchalance. "It's lovely."

Gwen blushed, as she always did when someone paid her a compliment. "Thanks, Merlin. I got it on my eighteenth birthday."

"Has Lance seen it?"

"No, I don't think so," she shook her head. "This is the first time I've worn anything so – revealing." Another blush.

"You should show him – I think he'll love it."

Maybe Uncle Cill's odd premonitions had some substance. His horse riding coin was still an enigma though. He slid his hand over Arthur's knee under the table and gave it a gentle squeeze. The closeness they were enjoying was killing him; he wanted more. 

"I'm exhausted," he said. "I think I'll turn in for the night." Being tired wasn't a lie; but that wasn't his primary reason for his escape. His cock was half hard from his being pressed against Arthur for the duration of the meal. 

He pushed back from the table and nodded at some of the other candidates who hadn't already gone to bed themselves as he made his way past and up to his room. Arthur would probably follow him. 

Arthur. Oh God. Merlin was already more than half in love with the man. Last night had been amazing – and he hadn't even had to take his clothes off.

Realisation sent him cold. Why hadn't Arthur wanted to take his clothes off? Did he know what horrors lay underneath and was content to take his pleasure in other ways, fully clothed? 

_It was the heat of passion._ Wasn't it? Of course it was, for fuck's sake – he had to stop letting Edwin sabotage him.

  
**::::**   


Arthur knocked forty minutes later. Merlin had been lying fully clothed on the bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, trying to banish the negative thoughts, but the longer he was left to fester the more the thoughts prevailed.

He thought for a moment about pretending not to be there, but his magic unlocked the door without his conscious permission and he called out, "It's open!" almost on auto pilot. Keeping his eyes closed he kept his head back against the pillows.

He felt the mattress dip as Arthur came to sit on the edge of the bed. "I had hoped you'd be naked, arranged artistically over the bed, waiting for me," he teased.

Merlin shuddered, imagining that the sight of that would send Arthur running for the door.

Arthur sighed, taking Merlin's limp hand and rubbing it between both of his. "You're doing it again aren't you?"

Merlin opened his eyes, turning to Arthur, "Doing what?"  
"Trying to push me away, running scared." He ran his thumb over Merlin's wrist. "Look, I meant it when I told you that we can get around the competition thing. Nobody needs to know – I promise that if you fuck up in a task I'll be the first to tell my father what an idiot you are – how's that?"

Despite himself, Merlin laughed. "You would as well, you prat." He shook his head, wiping his laughter away. "I – it's not that."

"Then what is it?" Arthur pushed. 

Merlin drew a deep breath, "Not now." He pushed himself up onto his elbows and allowed himself to admire Arthur properly for the first time that day. God, how was he, Merlin Emrys, the one whose room Arthur was in? How did something like that happen to someone like him? He didn't think he'd ever understand, but there it was – Arthur was here, and without thinking, Merlin curled an arm around his waist and pulled him down to him, Arthur half on top of him as Merlin wrapped his arm around his neck and pressed their lips together.

He didn't think he'd ever get enough of Arthur Pendragon.

Arthur kissed him slowly, cupping Merlin's cheek in his palm as he lifted his head, eyes dazed, and met Merlin's eyes, smiling as he bent his head again and began to explore Merlin's mouth, Merlin meeting him stroke for stroke. Arthur's touch, his kiss, was like nothing else Merlin had ever known. 

The kiss, a slow burner turned instant firelighter, Merlin was lost in a haze of sensation as Arthur's traced a questing hand down the line of his neck, ghosting over cloth covered nipples, gently along his rib cage, over his hipbone, finding its goal as he cupped Merlin's straining erection through his cotton combat trousers. 

Merlin's resulting groan was lost in the kiss he was still enjoying. 

Arthur moved his hand north again, finding the hem of Merlin's t-shirt, pushing it upwards with purpose. Merlin knew it would be on the floor within seconds, and he stilled, knowing if they carried on doing what they were doing then naked was inevitable. He hadn't been naked with anyone since Edwin. _No one else would want him._

Sensing Merlin's sudden reticence, Arthur pulled back, his eyes searching Merlin's for answers. Merlin wasn't sure what was reflected in his eyes, but Arthur's own darkened angrily and he cursed under his breath. Merlin flinched back, cold clenching his heart, closing his eyes, waiting for the rejection.

It didn't come. Instead, Arthur rolled off the bed, coming to stand beside Merlin and circling his hand around his wrist, gently tugging, "Come here."

Merlin sat up, warily and twisted his legs to the floor, standing up beside Arthur. Arthur pressed down for a kiss, like he couldn't help himself, withdrew, and leading Merlin by the hand, walked him across the room to the elaborate floor length gold mirror that took pride of place against the far wall.

Coming to a standstill in front of it, Arthur aligned Merlin so he was facing it head on, placing himself behind him slightly to the right, wrapping a possessive arm around Merlin's slender waist, their eyes meeting in the mirror. 

"Take a look," Arthur invited, and Merlin broke eye contact to give himself the once over in the mirror, assuming that was what Arthur meant him to do. He saw a tall dark haired skinny man with unusually large ears standing in front a blond vision of loveliness. He said as much to Arthur.

Arthur moved round between Merlin and the mirror, again his eyes meeting Merlin's. Slowly, he crossed his hands at the hem of his own t-shirt and lifted it over his head, discarding it to one side, revealing his lightly tanned muscular chest for Merlin's perusal. Merlin's erection, which had flagged slightly with his earlier distress, surged back to life at the sight – and when Arthur began to unbuckle his jeans and shucked them down his thighs, toeing off his shoes as he did so, Merlin forgot to breathe.

Arthur stood before him, not a stitch covering his naked form, his long thick cock standing to full attention. He flapped his arms, "What do you see?"

Merlin gulped. "Gorgeous," he managed. "You're perfect, Arthur."

Arthur smiled, revealing his teeth as his cheeks flushed with pleasure. "I'm glad you think so, Merlin," he licked his lips and this did not help Merlin's attempts to breathe. "You're the only person whose opinion matters to me in this regard."

He stepped forward, into Merlin's space, and before he even realised Arthur's intention, his t-shirt was over his head and had joined the pile of Arthur's discarded clothing on the floor. Arthur turned his attention to Merlin's trousers, pushing them down over his straining arousal and his hips to his ankles, hunching down easing them over his feet and flinging them aside.

Merlin had to fight an inner battle with himself not to cover himself up. Arthur stood up, "What do you see now?"

Merlin snorted, "Skinny, pasty-"

"That's not what I see," Arthur interrupted. Kissing Merlin briefly on the lips he moved back behind Merlin and slid his arms around his waist, pulling him back against him. Merlin felt Arthur's cock pressing against his arse cheeks and stifled a groan. Arthur combed a hand through Merlin's dark hair, "Gorgeous gorgeous black hair," he nuzzled his nose in the back of Merlin's neck.

Merlin watched in the mirror, utterly mesmerised, as Arthur's hand moved lower, his thumb brushing over Merlin's still swollen lips, "Look at yourself," Arthur commanded, tracing his hand down the curve of Merlin's neck, over his collarbone, pinching his nipples and eliciting a gasp from Merlin's throat, tracing the indents of his ribs where they gave way to his stomach. "Look at your skin – it's pale perfection, as I knew it would be." 

Arthur's second hand moved around Merlin's waist and stilled against the flat plain of his belly, and he kissed his shoulder, peering up, their eyes clashing again in the mirror as Arthur sucked a mark into Merlin's shoulder, keeping one hand on his stomach as the other ghosted over sharp hipbones, it's pace frustratingly slow in reaching its destination, finally curling strong fingers around Merlin's cock.

"I've never wanted _anyone_ as much as I want you," Arthur breathed, and Merlin could feel his heart pounding furiously into his back. "Look at you – _look at you_ , Merlin – how can you not see what I see? I want to be inside you so badly it hurts." He shifted slightly, his cock pressing his need into Merlin's back.

If Arthur hadn't been holding him up, Merlin thought his limbs would have given him up. _I want to be inside you so badly._ Merlin needed that. He tilted his head to the side, allowing Arthur to lean in and kiss him, his self-consciousness forgotten in the wake of Arthur's mirrored foreplay. The things Arthur said – Merlin believed him, or at least he believed Arthur believed them, which was enough. A tiny part of him knew that if Arthur had just been out looking for sex with one of the candidates, Cen was the most obvious choice being openly gay and very good looking. 

They stayed like that for what felt like an age, Arthur's hand slowly pumping Merlin's cock, his own erection creating sticky friction against Merlin's arse, tongues tangling and lips nibbling each other. Merlin broke the kiss and stretched out his arms and braced himself against the mirror frame, needing the extra support as the need for Arthur became desperate.

"Merlin," rasped Arthur throatily. "I think I might just die if I don't fuck you soon."

Merlin couldn't help but agree. "I'd better save your life then," he managed to joke, going cold when Arthur's body heat was removed from his back. In the mirror Merlin saw him fumbling with his clothes on the floor and pulling out a small packet of lube and a condom. Oh God, this was going to happen.

Arthur reappeared behind him, whispering in Merlin's ear how much he wanted him, in between biting his ear lobe and licking a trail from there down the side of his neck, distracting Merlin while he prepared him, Merlin's head dropping forward as one of Arthur's fingers breached him. _Arthur..._

It had been so long since anyone had... It had never felt like this. Merlin hadn't felt anticipation on this scale in his life before. After a few minutes Merlin couldn't take anymore, he pressed back against Arthur, "Need you now," he breathed. "Arthur, please..."

Arthur wordlessly obliged, replacing his fingers with the head of his cock, slowly nudging his way inside Merlin. Merlin braced his hands against the mirror, glancing up to see himself reflected there, thoroughly mussed, Arthur's hand curved over his hipbone, his own cock almost flat against his stomach. Arthur's face was pure concentration as he penetrated Merlin for the first time. It was almost enough to make Merlin come there and then. He fought for control; this was something he didn't want over too soon.

He bit his lip to keep himself from crying out as he was stretched to accommodate Arthur's length. Arthur stilled, meeting Merlin's eye in the mirror and Merlin nodded at him, unable to utter a word.

Arthur began to move, slowly at first, withdrawing gently and sliding back in, "Oh fuck, Merlin, you're – fuck!" Arthur descended into incoherence as Merlin pushed back against him, his legs shaking with arousal, his knuckles turning white as they gripped the sides of the mirror in an effort to remain standing. 

A couple more thrusts and Arthur pulled out completely, twisting Merlin around in his arms, covering his mouth with a hot breathy kiss, whispering, "Bed," and Merlin was manoeuvred backwards and somehow Arthur had him in the middle of the bed and was kneeling between his spread legs, making way for himself, entering Merlin with one smooth motion as Merlin lifted his legs around Arthur's waist and tried to pull him in closer, his hands on Arthur's shoulders, holding on to his prize.

Merlin found he couldn't – didn't want to – break eye contact with Arthur as he lay beneath him, chasing his orgasm, both of them chasing the release that was slowly building up between them; Arthur's pace increasing as he pounded into Merlin now, every other stroke finding Merlin's prostate and sending him one step closer. He'd lost his voice, his ability to speak shot, but not his ability to groan – and he'd never known himself be so loud but he couldn't help the sounds that were escaping him.

He reached for Arthur's hand, rubbing his own across it, taking the excess lube that remained on his fingers from slicking his cock, and took his own member in his hand, stroking it in time with Arthur's movements, bringing himself almost to the edge, wanting to wait for Arthur, and when Arthur's breathing became even more shallow Merlin sensed he was close. He gave in to his overwhelming need to come, rasping Arthur's name, refusing to close his eyes because he wanted to see Arthur's face when he came. He felt the sticky warmth of his release escaping and coating his and Arthur's stomachs, felt Arthur give in to his own desires, cry out Merlin's name and explode inside him. Merlin had thought Arthur to be God-like before, but in that moment, he was otherworldly.

Arthur gently withdrew and collapsed in a sticky sweaty heap besides Merlin, both of them out of breath and totally sated. "Bloody hell, Merlin," Arthur managed. "Bloody hell."

  
**::::**   


"Phoenix – how was Sophia as a project leader?" questioned Sir Uther once the cameras were rolling in the boardroom and he'd made his dramatic entrance.

There was an uncomfortable silence from the team. 

"No one has anything to say?"

Morgana coughed awkwardly and said, "She was what you might call indecisive, Sir."

Sir Uther looked down at his notes, probably Sophia's resume, before looking up and saying, "It says here, Sophia, that you say you 'command the respect of everyone you work with, and that you lead by example'; would you stand by that?"

Sophia, having turned an unflattering shade of pink squared her shoulders, "I wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true," she argued. "They're just trying to hang it all on me. None of them know their arse from their elbow -"

"You rubbed the whole team up the wrong way," Gaius interjected. "One minute you were sending Morgana to buy a rug, then Leon, then yourself. No one knew what you wanted them to do, it was chaos."

Merlin began to hope that perhaps Valiant's cowhide/rug cock up might not lose them the task after all. This was awkward to watch, because most of Sophia's team – Leon, Gwen and Lance – they were all too _nice_ to strike a blow unless provoked, and any minute now, with the way Sophia had started to breathe fire – he could see this descending into awkward recriminations. 

Turning his attention away he caught Arthur's eye, and although his face showed no sign of recognition, his eyes told a different story, and if Merlin could have, if he thought he could get away with it, he would have stopped time and frozen everybody else other than himself and Arthur, and climbed over the boardroom table and into Arthur's lap.

He snapped back into the room when he realised that Sir Uther had turned his attention to his team and was asking if Cenred had been a good project leader. He found himself speaking up, "Cen was very organised and logical – we all knew what we were supposed to do, and he a close eye on what was going on with the sub-team."

"Mmmhmm. Arthur tells me about an incident in a sports shop?"

Valiant jumped straight in, "The man was completely unreasonable with the price he was asking for," he spat. "I didn't think the price was fair so-"

"You were escorted off the premises by security. You were so far in that man's personal space you should have been proposing marriage!" Arthur contributed. 

Valiant spluttered, "I'm not a bloody homo, unlike some I could mention! You-"

Arthur continued cutting over whatever Valiant was about to say, "You then told him, and I quote, to 'go eff himself'. Is this how you-"

"I think I've heard enough for now," Sir Uther said, shooting Arthur a warning as he interrupted his son, before turning back to the glowering Valiant. "I've warned you before that I will not tolerate homophobia on this show, or in this boardroom, and I certainly don't want someone so ignorant working in my organisation."

There was a collective gasp from the candidates as they sensed what was coming. Sir Uther pointed his finger and the purple faced car salesman, "Valiant, without regret, you're fired." Valiant didn't move as he attempted to process the new development. "I'd like you to leave now."

Valiant found his voice, "I bet you're one too aren't you?" he accused Sir Uther. "I bet your whole fucking family's bent." 

"Ewan, call security," Sir Uther said calmly. 

From the corner of his eye Merlin saw Ewan dash for the door. Valiant stood, knocking his chair violently backwards into Gwaine as he did so causing him to double over with a pained cry.

"No one fires _me!_ " Valiant pounced forward, sliding over the highly polished table on his knees towards Sir Uther. Everyone else, Sir Uther included, seemed frozen as they watched him launch himself towards the man he'd been desperately trying to impress not five minutes earlier. 

This one was up to Merlin to sort out. As he watched, with a brief flash of amber, the sturdy table cracked down the middle, right beneath Valiant, plunging him into the gap and to the floor beneath, hitting his head with a thwack that made Merlin wince. 

What happened next was a blur of activity as everyone seemed to snap out of their trances and security came rushing in, Sir Uther, Arthur and Gaius were removed into another room as an unconscious Valiant was attended to by the paramedics before being charged with attempted assault by the police the moment he awoke. Gwaine was taken to hospital with a suspected broken wrist. Merlin and the other candidates retired to the reception waiting room whilst all of this was going on, disbelief turning into excitement and relief that Valiant was gone.

Cen was fussing over him as though Merlin had been the one almost attacked by an angry Valiant, making him so uncomfortable he'd gone in search of Ewan to see if there was time to go to the nearest Starbucks and buy himself a venti latte to drown himself in. 

Instead of finding Ewan straight away, he found Arthur and his father at the other end of the corridor, heads together, deep in conversation. He was too far away to hear what was being said, but close enough to see tears in Uther's eyes as he pulled Arthur into a bear hug.

Merlin turned away, feeling guilty at catching them in such an intimate moment, especially when neither had seen him. He turned away and bumped straight into Morgana, who was also watching the exchange with a strange expression. "Er, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"I was coming with you to find Ewan – I think we all need some fresh air and a cuppa after this," she was talking to Merlin, but her eyes were still fixed over his shoulder.

"Why are you so interested in Arthur?" Merlin blurted unthinkingly. Dammit.

Morgana looked at him then, surprised, "I – What makes you say that?" Her blue-green eyes were wide and surprisingly unguarded. "Oh – there's Ewan. Ewan!"

Merlin sighed. That was a conversation for another day.

  
**::::**   


One venti latte and one cinnamon muffin later, they were summoned back into the boardroom. Merlin was amused to note that the table had been replaced with one almost identical, but with round corners instead of square.

They all reassembled, Gaius and Arthur took their places before Sir Uther swept in.

"It's been an unexpected outcome today," he began. "I hope we can draw a line under today's events and move on. Gaius, how did Phoenix do?"

Gaius shuffled his papers importantly, "Phoenix purchased all but one items on the list – they were unsuccessful in locating the orange juicer. That said, and despite the general confusion as to who was doing what – what they did purchase they haggled well on so-" He then went on to name the price that they had purchased their items for, passing Sir Uther a list with a breakdown.

Sir Uther then looked to his son for his report, "Sorcery were very organised in their approach, but unfortunately a patchwork cowhide rug was purchased instead of a full cow hide, and is thus discounted." He gave a figure and handed his list to Sir Uther. 

From the figures given it was unclear who had won because of the rug and the juicer.

"Based on the figures given," Sir Uther began. "I have to take into account the missing items. Phoenix failed to find a juicer, but did not waste money on buying the wrong product as Sorcery did – hence Phoenix are the winners."

Phoenix cheered for themselves; Sorcery visibly deflated. Would someone else from their team take the fall for the loss now Valiant was out of the picture?

"Phoenix, I've arranged for a limo to take you to Thorpe Park, where you will be given priority access to all of the rides this afternoon. I hope you have fun." As they made moves to stand up he added, "However, don't get too complacent – Sophia this win - whilst still a win – is more by luck than anything else, looking at the figures, if the other team hadn't made a mistake, it would be you remaining in the boardroom today."

Sophia nodded politely, "I appreciate your feedback, Sir Uther," she simpered and followed her team out of the boardroom.

Sir Uther surveyed the remaining members of Sorcery – Merlin, Cen and Morgause – Gwaine was still at hospital. "I've spoken with my advisers about the events on today's task. Cenred, I believe you worked well as a team manager, and cannot be held responsible for the loose cannon that is Valiant," he paused and half smiled. "Arthur's testimony alone would be enough to know that the loss of this task was down to one person, and as that person has now been fired already, I will not be firing anyone else this week."

Four people exhaled in relief.

"Now, if the four of you want to head back to the house, I will see you all again for the next task," Sir Uther nodded at them as they thanked him and headed for the door. Merlin turned back to glance at Arthur and couldn't help the smile that automatically sprung to his face as his eyes met those of his...lover?

The smile remained all the way back in the car. When they got into the house, the other two heading straight upstairs and Cen grabbed his arm, whispering into his ear, "I wouldn't have taken _you_ into the boardroom, Merlin." His other hand went on Merlin's hip and attempted to pull Merlin closer.

Merlin pulled back, his original smile having faded, replacing it with a fake one, "Thanks, Cen, that's nice to know. I – er – have to go and make a phone call now." He shot upstairs and locked himself in his room.

Pulling out his phone, there was already a text from Arthur with Arthur's home address on it, asking Merlin to come round at 8pm.

Merlin's cock twitched in anticipation, and he headed for the shower.

  
**::::**   



	9. Week Eight

Week Eight

“You look like the cat that caught the canary,” Merlin observed to Gwen as they hastily downed a cup of coffee and a piece of toast before they jumped into the cars that were waiting outside to take them to the next task. “Lance finally made that move?” He’d actually seen Lance coming out of Gwen’s room that morning, but he didn’t tell Gwen that.

Gwen spluttered, “What – how -?”

“Yes!” Gwaine punched his healthy fist in the air from where he had appeared, bleary-eyed behind Merlin and was waiting to pour himself a brew. “I win.”

Gwen rolled her eyes, blushing, “They had a bet on us?”

Merlin nodded, “It’s been blindingly obvious. I think it’s cute. He’s lovely; you’re fantastic – what could be better?”

Gwen’s eyes misted over, “I know.” She shook her head. “I just hope it doesn’t get awkward with the competition; we both really want to win this.”

Merlin allowed himself a flashback to the night before last, of himself and Arthur tangled in bed together at Arthur’s place; that was a whole new level of awkwardness as far as this competition went. He shifted uncomfortably as the memory went straight to his cock, willing himself not to blush. “We’re all here to win; and some of us have become friends,” he patted Gwen’s arm. “You and Lance – I think you would both be pleased for the other if they won.”

“Two minutes everyone!” called Joe, sticking his head in through the kitchen door and starting a mad rush of activity as the nine remaining candidates grabbed their bags and headed to the front door. This was another away task, one night in a destination somewhere in the UK but as yet unknown. Arthur had not made a slip of tongue on this occasion; well, not anywhere Merlin could admit to anyway.

The cars took them at super speed to what seemed to just be a huge warehouse on the outskirts of Southampton. It turned out to be the headquarters of RingIt shopping channel, where Sir Uther waited inside the conference room with Gaius and Arthur to greet them. The nature of the task was obvious – at least it was to anyone who followed The Apprentice in previous years - without having to listen to Sir Uther’s spiel. 

They were going to have to pick items to sell on live on the shopping channel. Merlin was going to have to appear on live TV and try to sell stuff; both at the same time. Shit. How had he forgotten that this was a possibility?

Merlin widened his eyes and looked at Arthur. Arthur was suited and booted in his usual flawless style, 100% the professional businessman, who met Merlin’s gaze with only a hint of knowing that Merlin could pick out and only because he was looking for it. Merlin immediately felt hot under the collar of his suit. They had only had one day off between tasks; it hadn’t been enough, and he wanted nothing more right now than to close the gap between the two of them and bury his face in Arthur’s neck. Instead, he forced himself to listen to Sir Uther’s instructions.

The teams remained as they were last week, Valiant’s absence not missed, but obvious in that everyone was so relieved he was gone. Merlin was still in Sorcery, and this week Gaius was their observer, which pleased Merlin, because having Arthur in close proximity right now could end badly. His magic seemed to crave Arthur; yesterday afternoon, after his return from Arthur’s flat, it had twisted and turned under his skin in complaint at the other’s absence. Merlin had had to use up some of the excess energy by blowing up crockery in his bedroom then magically fixing it again – even after a couple of hours of that, he only felt marginally better.

Both Gwaine and Morgause put themselves forward as project manager. It didn’t even occur to Merlin to volunteer himself as he was too busy having a mini panic about appearing on live TV and presenting. It was one thing having cameras follow almost every move they made for filming the show; that footage went off somewhere to be edited, it wasn’t live – what if he swore? He had a habit of swearing when under duress.

Morgause won the coin toss they had chosen to let decide the outcome. “Right then people,” she started with a clap of her hands when they were all seated around the planning table in their side office in the shopping channel’s suite of offices. “Has anyone here got a shopping channel addiction?”

Everyone shook their heads. 

“Anyone even watched the shopping channels?”

More shaking heads. Merlin couldn’t even get channel five at home, and not one of the other four was a shopping channel. 

“Well, we’ve got to find ten items that we want to sell tomorrow on air. There are five of us so that means two items each, but as we have to present in twos... Um, we all have to have a go at presenting so – OK – let’s start by sorting out what items we want to sell first, then we can go over who presents with whom later. I figure we’ve got two hours to pick the stuff – so if we split up and pick two items each, ones you think you can sell, and we’ll meet back here and -”

“What price range?” asked Cen. “The task is based on how much money we make, not volume, so are we going to take a punt on some more expensive stuff?”

Morgause looked surprised by the question. “I don’t know,” she floundered, rustling some papers for what seemed like an endless pause. “What sells on this sort of thing? I’m guessing maybe we have three low priced items to shift the volume, say under £10? Then four mid priced – under fifty? Three high end items – over £50 up to – well let’s see what we can find.” She scratched her head. “Gwaine and I will look out the higher priced items, Morgana, Cen, Merlin – can you take care of the rest?”

Merlin wasn’t exactly inspired by confidence in the task, and the manager. To be fair to Morgause though, they were all pissing in the dark here. This one could end badly.

=+=

A few hours later they were back in the office with a selection of ‘goodies’ to sell. Morgause assigned them into teams – Merlin with Cen (he should have known!), Morgana with Gwaine and then Gwaine with Morgause again. Gwaine’s arm was still in a sling due to a broken wrist after Valiant’s antics the other day in the boardroom, and both Gwaine and Cen protested that it might be better to give Gwaine the fewest possible products to sell as well as the easiest to demonstrate. Morgause said she had taken the suggestions on board, but didn’t move Gwaine’s allocation, claiming he was the most photogenic and that little old ladies watching him wouldn’t be able to resist picking up the phone and buying.

That prompted Cen to point out that he thought Merlin had the greatest grandmother appeal because he was ‘cute’.

Merlin just wanted the day to be over.

He and Cen had four items to sell – an Indian bedspread, a pair of gold cufflinks, a set of saucepans and some kind of DIY workbench with an assortment of tools.

First off Merlin set about reading all the info that came with each product, including those the others were going to be selling, so he would know what he was talking about, Cen did the same. Morgause got impatient though, wanting to get on with practicing. Thank fuck for Merlin’s almost photographic memory.

He didn’t miss Gaius’s furious scribbling as he observed their attempts at ‘selling’ as they rehearsed. Merlin kept tripping over his own tongue – he had all the info in his head just fine – getting it to come out in an eloquent style was something else entirely.

For the first time in this competition, Merlin could almost see the time bomb hanging over his head.

=+=

They were staying the night in the DeVere in the Harbour, enjoying a group meal with Arthur and Gaius in the hotel restaurant before retiring to the hotel bar. Merlin deliberately sat at the other end of the table from Arthur during dinner, and settled for watching him discreetly from a distance as he chatted with Morgana – he was still suspicious of her, but her interactions with Arthur that evening gave nothing away. He also managed to escape sitting by Cen, sandwiching himself between Leon and Gwen.

Leon had a crush on Joe. He didn’t say as much, but he casually dropped his name into the conversation far too many times not to raise Merlin’s suspicions. Hadn’t Ewan said Joe had a crush on Arthur? Well, he could keep his hands off there! Merlin decided that if the opportunity arose he would attempt some subtle matchmaking.

Arthur went up to his room first, only a brief glance at Merlin as he passed, Merlin’s magic screaming to follow him that instant but forcing himself to wait fifteen minutes or so before making his excuses and heading to the lifts.

As he pressed the call button on the lift he saw Cen appear from around the corner, and in the moment Merlin felt blind panic and saw the determination in Cen’s stride and the look in his eye as their gazes met. Cen had obviously decided tonight was the night he was going to up his game.

Behind Merlin the lift pinged to alert him to its arrival, and Merlin backed into it, eyes still on Cen’s approach, his magic sending out warning signals to the other man in invisible waves that plunged the hotel lobby into darkness as the lights went out. Merlin fumbled around hitting the lift button for the floor he wanted, pleased that the lift’s power was still on even if it was dark. The doors closed in front of him and the lift began to rise. He heaved a heavy sigh of relief at his reprieve.

He had escaped, but it had been close. Talk about stress, he hadn’t relished the idea of having to fight off the older man; things were getting tense between them as it was, and Cen probably thought it was UST, but Merlin knew it wasn’t – unless the ‘U’ stood for ‘Unwanted’.

Merlin just wanted to be in Arthur’s arms; so he hurried down the dark corridor – the power still out – under the dim glow of the emergency lighting and unthinkingly turned the handle on Arthur’s door when he reached it, his magic opening it for him.

“Merlin, is that you?” Arthur called from the recesses of the bedroom and Merlin pushed ahead, his insides performing acrobatics as he stepped out of the entrance hall and set eyes upon Arthur – a very naked Arthur – lying on the bed, illuminated by a combination of moonlight and harbour lights from outside. Merlin gulped. “How did you get in without a key?”

Merlin shrugged the question off. “It was open?” The whole magic thing...he needed to know where this was going before he confided in Arthur about his abilities. Only Will and Uncle Cillian knew about them. Well, and Edwin, but he wasn’t in his life anymore – and Edwin was hardly in a position to use the knowledge against Merlin when he had magic of his own.

Merlin tamped down the way his magic spiked at the thought of his ex. Why think about him when Arthur was lying naked on the bed. Oh – my – God. Naked and hard. He kicked off his shoes and toed his socks off to join them. 

Slowly he approached the bed, Arthur watching his every move from his position propped up on his elbows, undoing his belt and shoving his trousers to his ankles, stepping out of them, turning his attention to his suit jacket and shirt, throwing them to one side until he stood beside he bed, as naked as Arthur, his confidence bolstered by the darkness in the room – he still didn’t feel entirely comfortable being naked in front of Arthur, although Arthur seemed to want to worship his naked body at every opportunity, and Merlin’s unconscious seemed to want to let him.

He crawled onto the bed and straddled Arthur’s thighs. “Hello,” Arthur said huskily.

“Hello,” Merlin grinned, mesmerised as Arthur sat up and kissed him.

“I’ve had a very stressful day,” Arthur told Merlin, snagging eye contact as he broke the kiss. “I think I need to fuck the tension out of me.”

Merlin drew in a deep breath, his cock twitching where it bobbed perilously close to Arthur’s, already fully aroused. “I think you might be right,” he teased, and bent himself almost double to engulf Arthur’s length in his eager mouth. It shouldn’t taste so good, it really shouldn’t. Merlin could become addicted to this; Arthur’s taste...Arthur.

Arthur bucked upwards with a groan, “Merlin...ungh...” his hands feeding through Merlin’s hair, fingers teasing along his scalp.

Merlin pulled back, shooting Arthur an innocent look, “Yes Arthur?” Lust coursed through him, he wanted this so much – so much. When he was near Arthur he found he had no control at all, he was putty in Arthur’s hands.

“Come here,” he commanded, and as Merlin sat up to lean forward, Arthur flipped them over, so that Merlin was under him, staring up into those intense blue eyes and seeing the need reflected there. Arthur tipped his head down and took Merlin’s mouth, one hand sliding down the length of Merlin’s body, over his ribcage, splaying over his belly for a long moment, his lips following the trail, light kisses followed by the rasp of stubble over his navel, Arthur’s fingers circling his belly button, his tongue copying the motion. The hand moved lower, strong fingers with feather like strokes over his aching cock.

Merlin watched Arthur at work with mesmerised eyes, the blond hairs from Arthur’s head tickling his abdomen. If this was a dream, Merlin never wanted to wake. “Love your skin,” Arthur was muttering as he swept his tongue lower. “Want to be inside you Merlin.”

Merlin wanted that too. His whole world had narrowed down to here and now and Arthur. He must have made encouraging noises, because Arthur somehow flipped him over so he was lying on his front, Arthur lifting Merlin’s hands above his head and straddling him, attacking his neck with his teeth. Merlin knew he would have a mark tomorrow, he wanted it.

Slowly Arthur kissed his way down along Merlin’s spine, his fingers seeking Merlin’s entrance and tracing slowly around it causing Merlin to gasp Arthur’s name as his hands fisted the sheets beneath him. Arthur liberated a pot of lube from underneath the pillow and once his fingers were coated he breached Merlin’s defences. Merlin closed his eyes and tried to relax as Arthur’s fingers stretched him, as they curled inside him and found heaven, Merlin biting his lip to stop himself screaming.

“Now Arthur,” he heard himself say, as though he wasn’t the one making the demands, as though it was someone else. 

Arthur withdrew his fingers and pressed his chest to Merlin’s back, supporting himself on his arms and finding Merlin’s mouth and plundering him thoroughly, their tongues mimicking the action Merlin was hoping for any moment now. He pressed his arse back up at Arthur in a silent plea.

Understanding, Arthur kissed his way down Merlin’s spine again, shuffling his own body backwards as he did so, his hips straddling Merlin’s as his fingers returned to ghost over Merlin’s hole before pressing the head of his cock inside, painfully slow, stopping when their balls met, presumably allowing Merlin time to adjust.

Merlin didn’t want time; he wanted Arthur to move, and now. “Fuck me please,” he said. “Don’t be gentle.” 

To indicate he meant what he said he pushed back and Arthur mumbled, “God Merlin,” and began to move. His left hand went to Merlin’s shoulder, the other to his side. He withdrew and pushed himself back again, slowly at first, until Merlin’s other voice, the one that wasn’t quite connected to him, demanded faster. Arthur obliged.

Merlin’s chest was pressed into the bed, his cock trapped beneath his stomach, stimulated by the friction of Arthur’s thrusts as he fucked him. He couldn’t touch himself, but he knew he didn’t need to. Arthur was picking up speed, his breathing heavy, peppered with groans and breathless moans of Merlin’s name. His cock grazing Merlin’s prostate over and over, leading Merlin closer to the edge as he felt his orgasm begin in his toes and spread its way through his body to his cock, the tension in his belly releasing as Arthur’s furious pace took its toll and he gave in to the assault, his release bursting through him with such force that the world went black and he lost consciousness for a second or two, a wordless scream escaping his lips.

It shouldn’t be this good. They shouldn’t be so hot together. Arthur above him, crying out, “Merlin!” as his own orgasm shook him apart, pulsing inside of Merlin, dropping his head to pepper Merlin’s shoulder with feather kisses. “Oh fuck me,” he breathed, flopping down on his front beside Merlin, their faces centimetres apart, two pairs of sated blue eyes staring at each other. Arthur ran his thumb over Merlin’s bruised lips, “Wow.”

“Mmmm,” Merlin agreed and snuggled into Arthur.

=+=

With hindsight Merlin was willing to accept that perhaps waking up in the middle of the night and giving Arthur a blowjob and receiving the same in return, was not a good idea when you had to be up at the crack of dawn to rehearse selling saucepans to people who probably didn’t need them, alongside a man who had turned flirting in to a new art form. It also didn’t help that when he had woken up with the intent of sneaking back to his own room with its un-slept in bed for a shower, Arthur had stopped him with a kiss which soon developed into a furiously paced quickie.

He now stood in front of the shopping channel’s make-up lady about to have the bags under his eyes covered over with foundation, and he felt like all he wanted to do was skulk into a corner and grab forty winks. Luckily the mark on his neck was lower than his collar. If anyone saw it there would definitely be raised eyebrows.

“Heavy night, love?” Nadia the make-up lady was asking conversationally as she sat him down and dabbed under his eyes with what Merlin was sure was an old wet sponge.

“You could say that,” he replied, staring at himself in the mirror, at his swollen lips – would it be obvious to everyone? He looked like he’d just been thoroughly fucked, didn’t he? Or did he only think that because he knew he had just been...thoroughly fucked?

“Don’t worry, I’ll have you looking as good as new in no time,” she said and dusted his nose with powder. Merlin sneezed. She fumbled around in a box on the shelf beside her and came back with lip gloss. Merlin silently groaned. He was going to be on live TV wearing bloody lipstick.

This did not bode well.

He escaped Nadia’s clutches at first chance he got, bumping straight into Morgana who had done her own make-up, because apparently she didn’t like to let other people near her with ‘dirty’ make-up.

“Oh Merlin, you look all shiny,” she teased, her face falling as she obviously remembered their last one to one conversation a couple of days before when Merlin had asked her why she was so interested in Arthur. She sighed, “Not now OK? Soon though, I promise.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes, but she sounded so genuine – he supposed it would all depend on what she had to say. He knew without having to give it any more thought that if she so much as tried to harm a hair on Arthur’s head she’d end up magically bald herself. 

He felt incredibly protective over Arthur to an intensity with which he scared himself.

He shoved thoughts of Arthur, and what Morgana may or may not be plotting, and of how shiny his lips were to one side and tried to get himself into TV presenter zone. He could do this. He could. Oh God, live TV. He was going to fuck this up he knew it. 

Where the hell was the coffee? He checked his watch and found they had half an hour before their slot. He sniffed the air, followed his nose to the coffee machine, and slunk into an empty room to call Will to tell him he was going to be on RingIt shopping channel in half an hour, knowing Will would likely shut the shop and go over to the pub and get Barry the landlord to let him watch in on their Sky TV. 

Of course, Will wouldn’t leave it at mocking Merlin for his imminent TV debut – for this would air now whilst the actual show ‘The Apprentice’ wasn’t on TV until October. 

“So, you shagged him yet?” was Will’s first question once he’d stopped laughing at the idea of Merlin selling saucepans on cable. He didn’t wait for a reply, “You sound different, so I’m gonna go with ‘yes’. Was he any good then?”

“I sound different how?” Merlin deflected. 

“You just sound less – I dunno – tense I think. Whatever it is – you sound more like the old you.” There was a moments silence as Merlin gave that some thought and decided that perhaps Will might be right; which immediately made him feel guilty.

“It’s just sex Will, like you said; I needed to get back on the horse or whatever. I’m back on.” He changed the subject, “What about you and Caroline from the health food shop? Asked her out yet?”

Merlin knew Will was allowing him to distract him and he was grateful. He really didn’t want to talk about what was happening between himself and Arthur, not even to his best friend. 

=+=

Morgana and Gwaine had their turn at presenting first. Their four items were an exercise bike, a silk screen room divider, a rock salt lamp and a watch that came in ten different colours. Cen, Morgause and Merlin sat in the directors box feeding instructions to them, adding in product details should they flounder – Merlin was the best at this role, chivvying Gwaine along by reminding him of product features he could use as selling points. 

Unfortunately, when Gwaine then tried to open up the screen to show the pattern of the fabric – it fell over and bopped him on the shoulder – which clearly hurt rather a lot, but he managed to carry on and help Morgana demonstrate the watches and the exercise bike. Later, as he crossed the set to stand beside Morgana he knocked his injured wrist on the display of watches, sending them crashing to the floor.

Morgause, in the director’s box screamed at him via his earpiece as though he had done it on purpose. Merlin knew it was mean, and he really shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help himself as a red boil began to develop on the tip of Morgause’s nose. By the time it was her turn in front of the camera she’d look like she was missing her Halloween costume.

When it was Cen and Merlin’s turn – after Gwaine’s second run with Morgause - Merlin could feel himself shaking. He could really do with a hug from Arthur, but Arthur was off watching the other team – and Merlin had no idea if the other team had done their slot of live TV or if they were after them. Cen went first, talking up the bedspread and the cufflinks; he was good at it, his presentation smooth, and his voice clear. No doubt he could sell coal to Newcastle if he set his mind to the task.

Merlin had to sell saucepans and the DIY workbench. The shaking didn’t stop, and he had trouble getting his words out. What the fuck was the difference between this and the other cameras that followed them around 24/7? He’d love to use some magic – heck, it was swishing under his skin, protesting at the stress Merlin was under as it was – but wouldn’t that be perfect, using magic on live TV? Real life X-Files.

Somehow, and Merlin had no idea how, he finally managed to string his words together. His memory kicked in to help him describe the merits of the saucepans they were trying to flog, and he managed to show them off to camera without dropping anything. He thought he’d probably only said ‘er’ a couple of times, which was good, because people saying ‘er’ too much really got on his nerves.

The DIY workbench thing was another matter altogether. Merlin and the team had practiced trying to set it up the night before, and it had all be fine. It was not so fine now though when left to assemble the bloody thing by himself, whilst looking at the camera and talking about all its features. The stupid fucking thing would not snap into shape.

Merlin had to bite his lip to stop himself from (a) swearing like a trooper on live TV and (b) waving a hand at it and watching it magically assemble itself. His inner dialogue was cursing his father for never being around when he was growing up – didn’t all Dads have these things in the garage of their semi-detached houses? 

Merlin had grown up in a flat above an antique shop. No Dad and no garage.

He could feel his anger and his magic curling inside him, dying to explode out and vent his frustration, so when he heard Cen say, “It appears Merlin here isn’t a fan of DIY – here let me give you a hand,” and with a snap of a wrist and a click, the workbench was assembled, and Cen was arranging all the tools in their slots and Merlin caught the hint and talked about what the product came with as Cen arranged them.

He maybe felt a little guilty for blowing the power and leaving Cen floundering in a dark hotel lobby the evening before. Cen was a nice guy. If he hadn’t met Arthur, would he have responded to Cen’s overtures? No – a shudder ran through him at the thought of the other man kissing him.

Why the heck was he thinking about that when the camera was still rolling and he was still supposed to be waffling on about all the amazing DIY tasks the stupid bloody DIY contraption could do. Why was he here? Oh God, he wished he could stop thinking and concentrate on the task. His head span, and he began to feel hot. Was it over yet? How much longer? He needed to get out of there or RingIt shopping channel might be about to experience some unexpected special effects. Blimey, had someone turned the heating up? He ran a sticky hand under his collar, desperately wanting to loosen his tie. The spinning began in earnest and he felt the blood draining from his face as white spots appeared and then darkness.

=+=

His head hurt; a dull throb above his left eye. He was cold too, and his eyes seemed welded shut. He could hear voices but he couldn’t make out who or what they were saying. The voices faded, and Merlin thought he heard a door shut, and he felt someone approach him, a hand on his arm through his shirt.

“Arthur?” he rasped, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms in an attempt to get his lids to open. “Arthur is that you?”

“No – it’s me, Morgana,” came the reply. “How are you feeling?”

“Bloody awful,” Merlin answered, his eyes opening and slowly focussing on Morgana’s worried face, instantly noting the hospital like surroundings. “What happened?”

“You passed out in the studio,” she leaned over and brushed his hair off his forehead. “You hit your head on the DIY bench.”

Merlin groaned inwardly. “I passed out on live TV?”

“Afraid so,” sympathised Morgana. “On the plus side, the switchboard jammed with concerned viewers enquiring after your health. Which reminds me -” she reached behind her and pressed the call button.

Merlin pictured a load of bored housewives enjoying having some drama in the middle of their TV shopping experience. 

The door opened and a nurse came in, “Ah, so you you’re awake. How do you feel?” The nurse proceeded to ask him a load of questions, saying the doctor would be along in a short while to check him out, before departing again after a couple of minutes, leaving Merlin alone with Morgana again.

“Where -” He bit his lip, realising ‘Where’s Arthur?’ wasn’t a question he should be asking. “Where’s everyone else?” he saved.

“Everyone’s gone back to London. We’d finished the task anyway, obviously, and I stayed here to keep an eye on you – saved you from your admirer – who caught you before you reached the floor I hasten to add.”

For a millisecond Merlin though she meant Arthur, but of course Arthur had been nowhere near them at the time; Morgana meant Cenred had caught him. How fucking pathetic was he, letting himself get overwhelmed like he had? His magic and his nerves and the heat all equalling a dangerous combination. The last time something like that had happened he’d been giving a presentation in school assembly when he was fourteen. That had been embarrassing; he’d fallen off the stage.

“Oh,” he said, trying to hide his disappointment at Arthur not being around. Part of him knowing that of course Arthur couldn’t be seen to be overly concerned. Merlin was merely a candidate. Another part of him was falling apart – if Arthur had been taken to hospital, Merlin would have been pacing a new groove in the floor with worry. “How long have I been here?” Oh for pity’s sake: his eyes were filling with tears.

“A couple of hours, that’s all,” Morgana leant forward and kissed his cheek, pulling back with a sympathetic smile. “I’ll be right back.” She stood and left the room, leaving Merlin alone with his thoughts. 

He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. What a mess! He’d be in the firing line this week for sure. Passing out from nerves; utterly unforgivable. Not that he really cared in that moment. He’d get fired, he could go home to Will and their cat Muriel, get on with his life again, forget about Arthur and...

He didn’t want to go back to his old life before he knew Arthur. Arthur was someone a person couldn’t just go home and ‘forget’. God, he couldn’t even imagine not having Arthur in his life – already. Yet, where was Arthur now?

Pushing back the tears Merlin heaved himself up to his elbows and tried to sit, a fresh wave of dizziness assuaging him, causing him to fall back again with a growl of frustration.

“What’re you doing you idiot?” said a voice from close by; Merlin’s eyes flew open – Arthur. “Don’t be trying to sit up yet – you’ve had a nasty bump.”

“You’re here,” Merlin observed dazedly. 

Arthur sighed, sitting in the chair vacated by Morgana. “Where else did you think I would be?” he queried, taking Merlin’s hand. “I’ve been here the whole time; trust you to wake up when I’d gone out to ring an update through to Ewan!”

“Morgana -”

“She didn’t want to leave your side either; she seems really fond of you...is there something you want to tell me?” Arthur teased, but Merlin saw the glint in his eye that suggested this wasn’t just teasing, he was wondering if perhaps there was something more there.

Morgana burst back in then, “Oh – Arthur – I -” her eyes were on Arthur’s hand over Merlin’s. “Er – the doctor’s on his way – the nurse says we need to clear out so he can examine Merlin.”

“I’ll be outside,” Arthur told him, and Merlin nodded, a wave of exhaustion hitting him as he nodded back at Arthur. 

Sleep would be nice right now. As soon as the doctor had done his thing; that was exactly what he intended to do.

=+=

“No – seriously Will – I’m fine,” Merlin reassured his friend. 

“You wanker,” Will huffed. “Fucking passing out on bloody telly and worrying the shit out of me.”

Merlin felt a pang of guilt. He hadn’t given Will a second thought when he’d woken up, and he’d known he’d been watching. If it weren’t for Arthur answering his mobile as it vibrated its heart out for the millionth time from his abandoned suit jacket, Will would most likely have been half way down the M40 on his motorbike by now.

“Sorry. It was like year 10 all over again – remember?”

“Yeah, well, I was worried then too,” Will said with a sniff, but Merlin could hear the smile in his voice. “You sure you don’t want to come home for a few days?”

Merlin felt a pang. Home would be nice. Home would be great. “Nah – I’m staying with Arthur for a few days,” he tried to say it casually, as though it was perfectly normal for him to be staying with Arthur in his flat, as though that was where he belonged.

Surprisingly the production team had moved the boardroom back a few days so that Merlin could have the few days of bed rest the doctor ordered. Apparently there was going to be a few days break after the latest task anyway, so it hadn’t been too much of a jump – it just meant everyone else was left in limbo longer than normal. 

The other candidates thought Merlin had gone home for a few days to rest. Only Morgana knew he was at Arthur’s. The cat had most definitely been out of the bag after the hand holding in the hospital, and when Arthur had been off organising transport back to London for himself and Merlin – Morgana had told Merlin she thought that they looked great together and that his secret was safe with her...she also said she hadn’t forgotten she had promised to tell him what was going on with her, and when he came back to the house they could talk. 

He believed her.

“He’d better treat you right,” Will was saying now. “If he as much as looks at you funny I’ll have him.”

“Will, relax, Arthur’s not like that,” he defended, knowing in his heart he was right. He should have learnt to listen to his heart – and by heart read magic for they were intimately related – because his heart had never felt comfortable with Edwin, and Merlin should have listened. “I appreciate your way of telling me you care.”

“Yeah, well, don’t tell anybody will you? My reputation will be ruined!”

=+=

Merlin had never slept as much as he had the last 24 hours, and he was kind of annoyed with himself because he was at Arthur’s, and he was in Arthur’s bed – yet he was wasting time literally sleeping.

Arthur worked from home on the Friday, leaving Merlin to rest; that night curling up beside him and Merlin slept with his head on Arthur’s chest. When he woke up with his morning wood poking into Arthur’s thigh, Arthur groaned and took himself off for a shower, leaving Merlin feeling rejected until Arthur came out of the en suite, tiny towel covering his modesty and said, “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Oh?” Merlin pouted – fucking pouted, what the hell was wrong with him? 

“You’re thinking that because I didn’t take advantage of your – our – situation this morning that I don’t want you.”

Was he that transparent? He must be. He didn’t reply, choosing to wait for Arthur to continue.

“I’m just not about to take advantage of you whilst you’re unwell,” he fixed Merlin with an intense look before turning his back on him to rummage in the chest of drawers, dropping his towel and pulling on some clean boxers. Merlin watched, transfixed, his recently flagged erection renewing its interest immediately.

“I feel fine now,” Merlin said. “I’m stronger than I look you know.”

“I don’t care, the doctor said 48 hours bed rest – rest – Merlin,” Arthur answered, pulling on his jeans. “I’ll get you some breakfast.”

Arthur left the room leaving Merlin unsatisfied; however, the slow unfurling joy in the pit of his stomach that was always beneath the surface in Arthur’s presence began to rear up, entering his bloodstream like strong liquor felt very satisfied indeed – Arthur looking after him, caring for him, bringing him to his own home and cuddling him. He could get used to this.

He looked down at himself; an old t-shirt of Arthur’s and some of his too big pyjama bottoms. His heart clamoured in his chest, his pulse jumping – he didn’t know what it was – as the happiness threatened to burst out of him he almost forgot about his guilt and everything associated with it – for the first time in forever, he felt loved.

OK, so ‘loved’ wasn’t the right word; Arthur would never love him, but he did seem to care for him, and right now, that was all Merlin needed. He closed his eyes and missed Arthur returning with a tray of coffee and toast, only waking when he brought him lunch later on.

By Saturday Merlin was back to his usual level of alertness, which for him meant there was enough caffeine in his bloodstream, so after showering and consuming two strong cups of coffee from the cafetiere Arthur had brought him up for breakfast he dressed for the first time since coming back from the hospital and went in search of the blond.

He found Arthur on the window seat in his lounge, watching the bustling street several floors below. When Merlin approached and placed a hand on his shoulder, Arthur simply covered it with his own and said, “London’s so claustrophobic.”

“I know,” Merlin agreed. “Why do you think I still live where I do?”

“There’s a car coming for us in half an hour,” Arthur told him. “I’m getting out of town for a couple of days – boardroom’s not until Wednesday and I’m due some leave – do you feel up to it?”

“I – are you sure you want me to come with you?”

“Are you mad?” Arthur turned his head, his fingers closing over Merlin’s hand on his shoulder and pulling Merlin round, tumbling him onto his lap. “I’m already dreading Tuesday night when I have to give you back to the competition! These last couple of days have been torture, being so close to you but not being able to touch. You’ve gotta know how much I wanted to?”

Merlin couldn’t speak, or take his eyes off Arthur’s lips, even as they moved closer and Arthur kissed him, hard, pulling him closer, his hands fisting in Merlin’s t-shirt, bucking his hips and showing Merlin exactly how much he wanted him, uncaring that they were sitting in the window above a busy street as they pressed closer together, opening their mouths to one another, heavy breathing and low moans the only sounds in the room – until the doorbell pealed to announce the arrival of the car.

Reluctantly Merlin climbed off Arthur’s lap and put a hand to the wall to steady himself, “So – um – where exactly are we going?” he managed as Arthur, similarly unsteady on his feet, answered the intercom and told the driver they’d be down in a few minutes.

“It’s a surprise,” Arthur teased. “Now, get a move on - there’s a bag of your things Morgana sent over by the door.”

“Do you trust her?” Merlin asked suddenly, not knowing he was going to ask until the words came out.

“I don’t know. She’s not done anything to indicate she’s untrustworthy, but she could be biding her time,” Arthur was halfway out the door and not looking at Merlin as he spoke. “I just – I kind of like her – you know?”

“Yeah,” Merlin hooked his bag over his shoulder and followed Arthur. “I know.”

=+=

“Can I have a clue where we’re going?” Merlin asked as the limo – a bloody limo – was swallowed up into the London traffic, the driver hidden by a screen and the outside world by dark glass. 

Arthur shook his head, “No, but I can tell you it will take a good couple of hours to get there,” he slid a hand over Merlin’s thigh and cupped his cock through his jeans. “Plenty of time to finish what we started upstairs.”

From flaccid to hard in 0.3 seconds, Merlin bucked up into Arthur’s palm. “Fuck yes.”

Arthur’s close proximity over the last couple of days, despite Merlin’s half conscious state for the most part, had left Merlin semi aroused for most of the time, and now that Arthur was out of carer mode and back into lover, Merlin didn’t want to wait. Couldn’t wait.

A tangle of limbs and heavy breaths, dirty kisses, rough palms, biting teeth and Merlin’s jeans were removed from his body. No time for self consciousness or awareness of their surroundings as Arthur prepared him, and Merlin lowered himself to onto Arthur’s straining cock as it protruded from the opening in his jeans which was his only contribution towards getting undressed, burying his face in Arthur’s neck as he did so, only lifting his head to look at Arthur when he was fully seated.

Arthur slid a hand around and traced it around Merlin’s hole, sliding a finger inside to join his cock, his eyes on Merlin’s face, pupils wide. Oh yes, this was it; Arthur met Merlin’s lips, their tongues desperately seeking the other, and Merlin began to move, riding Arthur hard, his fingers seeking the hem of Arthur’s t-shirt and sliding his hands underneath to place his palms flat against Arthur’s chest, his thumbs rubbing over erect nipples.

It was fast and desperate; Arthur thrust upwards as Merlin moved himself over his cock, their pace relentless as their urgency and need to touch overcame them. Merlin was vaguely aware of the people on the street outside as they crawled through the London traffic, and this heightened his arousal – knowing that he was here in the safety of the car with Arthur. He bore down harder, and when Arthur closed a confident hand around his cock, Merlin couldn’t hold back any longer, leaning back to watch his expression before coming over Arthur’s hand, Arthur’s t-shirt, Arthur’s belly, chanting his name as his orgasm took him, hearing Arthur cry out as he followed Merlin into ecstasy, all the while his eyes locked with Merlin’s.

It was too intense for Merlin to bear; he buried his face in Arthur’s neck and waited for his heartbeat to slow.

=+=

They spent three whole days together before they had to return to London on Tuesday for Wednesday’s boardroom. Arthur owned a house in Somerset, in a small hamlet not far from Glastonbury. He also kept a car there, an old vintage Jag that made Merlin’s toes curl with envy and joy when they went to the supermarket in it to collect supplies and drove back along the lanes with the hood down.

For a time, Merlin almost forgot he was in the middle of a competition, and about Edwin, his Mum – everything. Arthur was getting to him, becoming important enough to him that everything else ceased to hold a pull for him, making him feel that perhaps Edwin had been wrong, that someone else could love him.

Arthur told him about his childhood, growing up with a mother, his father’s expectations of him and his desires to meet them. Merlin learnt about Arthur’s love of cooking, his hatred of horror movies and a thousand other scraps of information that separately meant nothing, but together made Arthur who he was.

Merlin was letting tiny pieces of himself out to Arthur as well, little by little. That didn’t mean he’d been able to open up to him about Edwin, or about what really happened to his Mum. To tell Arthur that, to show that side of his life would be to show Arthur what he really was inside and he didn’t want that look to fall from Arthur’s face – the one that looked at Merlin like he was precious, like he really meant something to him – he couldn’t face Arthur thinking differently of him, for him to know about Edwin, know his weaknesses, to realise that yes, Edwin was right, Merlin was nothing. Arthur could do better.

So he buried that away, and crested on the wave he was riding, locking the niggle away inside, the mini Will in his head telling him to throw away the key and never look inside again, telling him none of it was his fault.

His magic remained secret too – and Merlin would tell him about it – he really would – but he wanted to just be ‘normal’ for a while. Not a freak, just normal, boring, non-magic Merlin Emrys.

On Sunday they walked up the Tor and lay on the grass soaking up the sun and the atmosphere, Arthur using Merlin’s thighs as a pillow. That night Arthur took Merlin to his favourite restaurant in Glastonbury, Hundred Monkeys, and held his hand across the table, tracing circles over his inner wrist in a motion that sent shockwaves directly to his cock.

They didn’t make it home in time, Arthur pulling the car in the lane over and fucking Merlin over the bonnet of the car in the pitch dark of the countryside at night.

It was easy to get caught up in this feeling; lust, excitement, joy, pleasure, teetering on the edge of falling hard for the man he was sharing it with. Easy to be lulled into the cocoon they were sharing, to stay there forever, forgetting that the real world and their return to London was imminent. 

His parting from Arthur on Tuesday evening was painful. Before now their time together had been stolen, hidden, but these last few days had been everything they’d missed before. They went back via Arthur’s flat, Arthur staying there and Merlin getting a taxi back to the house to greet his fellow candidates, many of whom it had turned out had also gone home for a few days and were trickling back in now. 

Over dinner, once they had ascertained Merlin had recovered and had sustained no permanent damage, the piss taking commenced, and Merlin had to agree that perhaps what had happened to him was quite funny and worthy of his being mocked.

“Apparently there has been a load of concerned post and emails to the TV station,” Gwaine teased. “I think you are definitely ‘housewives’ choice’ Merlin. Must be your pretty lips and cheek -”

“Leave him alone!” Cen pushed his chair back from the table and stood. “It’s not funny, none of it, Merlin could have been seriously hurt.”

“Cen -” Merlin began tentatively.

“No Merlin, I won’t have it.”

“Ah fuck off Cen – what’s it got to do with you?” Gwaine drawled back at the other man, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head, his injured wrist obviously bothering him less now. “Stop smothering the kid. He’s not interested in you.”

Merlin closed his eyes and wished his magic included the power to teleport out of the middle of this argument.

“What would you know Gwaine? Your whore of a fucking ‘girlfriend’ Sophia has been shagging the cameraman right under your nose this whole time – but you’re so full of yourself that you never even noticed.”

Sophia, until that point had been sitting beside Gwaine, half draped over him. She shot upright, “You arsehole!” she screamed, grabbing a coffee mug from in front of her and launching it at Cen, missing by miles as it smashed against the wall behind her.

Cen grabbed a handful of leftovers off his dinner plate and flung them back at Sophia.

Merlin quietly stood up and went to bed.

=+=

Sorcery lost by over £800 in revenue. The other team had gone for smaller cheaper items all round, selling the volume and getting the money in. As well as that, no one had collapsed on set or completely fucked up their demo because they had a broken hand.

Phoenix were sent to the royal box at the races. Sorcery ended up in the grotty cafe again. Morgause’s bony finger seemed to want to point all the blame at Merlin. Apparently if Merlin hadn’t passed out then they would have sold loads of the DIY workbenches and won.

The rest of the team – including Cen and Gwaine who were blanking each other completely following their argument the night before – all backed Merlin saying that passing out wasn’t exactly his fault, and that the lack of sales boiled down to some of the items being too expensive as well as being unfair on Gwaine for having to go in twice when he could only use one hand.

Merlin could smell the impending, ‘Merlin, you’re fired.”

Morgause took Gwaine and Merlin into the boardroom, citing Gwaine’s clumsiness as the reason he was going in with her.

Merlin knew he’d fucked up, but he also wasn’t going to let her walk all over him, and he knew damn well Gwaine wouldn’t go without a fight.

Sir Uther was unsympathetic. “So you’re picking on the weak?” he accused Morgause. “You’re bringing Merlin in because he had the misfortune to become unwell, and Gwaine because his injury made him un-coordinated?”

“No,” Morgause countered. “Because Merlin here fluffed his words before he was ‘taken ill’; and he was useless at putting up the DIY bench even though he was supposed to have practiced.”

Merlin tried to stay calm, aware of the cameras on him, Sir Uther’s presence, Arthur’s unwavering stare and Gaius’s eagle eyed observations. “I did not fluff my words. I admit I was nervous, but if you recall I knew every single thing there was to know about ALL of those products – as you might remember from your own memory lapses when you were presenting and I prompted you with product info several times.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you couldn’t assemble the bench.”

“The leg got stuck, it could happen to anyone. Cen stepped in to help – we are a team after all,” Merlin had to hold back the urge to pop a button off her blouse or make her cough up frogs. It was a very tempting prospect. The boil on her nose was hidden under a layer of orange foundation.

Morgause snorted, “The reason Cen stepped in to help had nothing to do with team work, Sir Uther, and everything to do with his little crush on Merlin.”

Merlin gaped. She had gone there. In the boardroom. In front of Arthur. 

“You’re selling Cenred short,” Gaius said with an incredulous expression on his face at Morgause’s words. “He stepped in to help his team mate, as well he should’ve. Any feelings he, or any other candidate, has for another has no bearing in this boardroom.”

“Gaius is right,” Sir Uther said. “And I fail to see the relevance either way when you are arguing that Merlin had failed somehow – Cenred’s reasons for stepping in bear no relation to whether or not Merlin did a good job. If you felt Cenred was in any way to blame then you should have brought him in instead of bandying accusations around that he’s not able to defend himself against.”

Merlin perked up a little. He was also impressed that Gwaine didn’t join the party considering he’d pretty much said the same to Cen last night – and Morgause hadn’t even been there at the time.

“Tell me why you’ve brought Gwaine in?”

Morgause moved forward to explain why she thought Gwaine’s presentation style had lost sales. Merlin and Gwaine both argued back. Sir Uther once again pointed out Gwaine’s temporary disability. Morgause said a broken wrist shouldn’t bear any relevance on his ability to sell. Arthur accused her of deflecting the blame onto everyone else.

The atmosphere was unbearably tense.

Sir Uther dismissed them out into the reception for ten minutes so he could discuss the situation with Gaius and Arthur. Merlin wondered what Arthur said about him when he was in with his father.

“Morgause, why should I keep you in this competition?” Sir Uther asked finally when they were back in the room.

“Because, Sir Uther, I’m a dynamic business woman who could add millions to your portfolio. I’m a good leader, I work well in a team, I’ve got vision and drive and I don’t suffer fools -”

“You don’t suffer fools? Right,” Sir Uther interrupted. “Gwaine, over to you, why should I keep you?”

“Sir Uther, I’m in it for the long haul. I believe that hard work and honesty is what gets you by in business. I’ll get you your results, and clients will keep coming back for more because I will have built the rapport and the relationship with them that lasts.”

Sir Uther nodded expressionlessly, “Merlin?”

Merlin’s heart was going nineteen to the dozen. “You haven’t seen the best of me yet Sir. I’m loyal, hardworking and I’ve got vision. I can be relied upon to deliver anything you ask of me.” Shit, this was harder than it looked; had he said enough?

“Hmmm,” Sir Uther pondered. “Gwaine, I don’t agree that you should be in here today, I believe you were badly managed and that you should not have been required to assemble and handle products one handed. However, I think you rely too much on this ‘lazy charm’ you seem to think you have and I think you’re a bit too cocky for your own good.”

“Morgause, What I’ve heard out your mouth today has been nothing short of slanderous towards your fellow team mates in an attempt to discredit them – I’m particularly angered that you choose to pick on those who are not here. However, until this task you have been a solid performer...”

“Merlin, your mind is more creative than business, but I feel that with that in mind what you have achieved so far is impressive and I liked what you did when you were PM. However, I think part of the reason you were taken ill is that you panicked in front of the live cameras...” Damn, he was good. Merlin’s heart sank.

“I have to choose someone I believe worthy of either the prize money or the job in my organisation, and for that I need someone who I can trust, someone with integrity. With that in mind, after your behaviour in this boardroom today I’m afraid you’ve talked yourself out of a job,” He paused and pretended to look at his papers. The firing finger raised itself: “Morgause, you’re fired.”

Merlin released his breath and glanced at Arthur, who shot him a brief triumphant glance, before turning his attention to Morgause who was making her exit thank you and backing out the room. 

“The two of you are free to go. I’ll see you both on the next task.”

Merlin followed Gwaine from the room, both of them fake-kissing Morgause in the reception area. 

“God, what a witch,” Gwaine said as they got in the car.

“Mmmm,” Merlin agreed as he checked the time on his phone to calculate how long he had to wait to see Arthur again, finding a text message from Will asking him to call when he found the chance, and working out that he would be with Arthur in just over three hours.

That was three hours he could spend finding out exactly what Morgana was up to. She’d promised, and it was time he collected.

=+=


	10. Week Nine

Week Nine

Merlin hadn’t seen Arthur since the evening after the last task as he’d had to go to New York for the launch of a new product line in place of one of Uther’s other executives at the last minute. Merlin missed him.

It had been some evening, however. Merlin blushed at the memory when it ran through his head during dinner with Uncle Cill. With the few days on his hands to spend as he wished, he’d called up his Godfather and arranged to meet him for dinner on the second evening.

A couple of hours in and he was beginning to wish he’d stayed in and played ‘one-hundred ways to avoid Cen’ – much more fun. Much as he loved the old man, sometimes his company was hard work, especially when he was in full cryptic mode.

“It wasn’t your fault you know,” Uncle Cill said absently, topping up Merlin’s wine glass, ignoring his protests that he had drunk enough. 

Merlin glanced around the dining area they were seated in, amazed that there were still places like this; men-only members clubs, of which his Godfather was a celebrated member, and Merlin was the youngest person in the room by at least thirty years. “What wasn’t my fault?”

“Hunith’s death,” was the casual reply to a subject which Merlin felt anything but casual about. “It was an accident.”

“How -”

“You really should tell him you know; he’ll understand,” Uncle Cill continued, seemingly unaware of Merlin’s growing agitation. 

“Tell who what?” he sighed. He swore the old man became more and more confusing the older he became. “Why can’t you just say it straight?” Merlin asked the question, but he knew the answer, and looking at Uncle Cill now he could see the glazed look in his eyes, the one he got when the wonderings came out.

He waited as the old man enjoyed a few sips of his wine, waiting for the ‘normal’ side to him to find its way back to the fore, but he seemed lost in the fog of his mind completely, the randomness peppered with knowing words, “Your mother loved you Merlin, adored you even. It was natural for her to be worried about you; but the accident was just that, an accident.”

Merlin stared down into his glass, watching the dark red liquid as though he was expecting it to do something. He’d known this – his mother’s love for him – of course he had. He’d also known the worry she’d gone through in the months prior to her death, and that had been his fault. Her accident had been his fault, even if he hadn’t been the driver of the other car. If it weren’t for him, she wouldn’t have been out on the road that night, and wouldn’t have driven into the path of a drunk driver.

“I don’t think I can. Besides, when this thing is over, we’ll go our separate ways – why does he need to know?” He was starting to regret telling Cill about his affair with Arthur; but at least it had stopped him mentioning the usual two sided coins and black horses - for the first time in twenty years.

“You need to tell him Merlin; if you don’t, you could lose him.”

He’s not mine to lose.

=+=

Merlin ached for Arthur. A dull emptiness in the pit of his stomach was a physical reminder of the other’s absence. This worried Merlin. If he was like this now, knowing Arthur was due to return in a couple of days time – what would he be like when they parted for good and he wasn’t ever going to see him again? For surely, as soon as Merlin was fired and sent home to Worcestershire, that would be the end of their liaison.

They hadn’t talked about it. Merlin didn’t want to hear the words. He was only learning to accept that Arthur found him attractive and enjoyed being with him physically; he wasn’t fool enough to think this meant anything long term. It was convenient for now; Arthur could have his pick of anyone, and Merlin was around - convenient. He tried not to think who might be around in New York right now because when he did he felt physically sick and his magic spontaneously blew things up.

The toaster in the kitchen had burnt its last slice of bread this morning when Merlin set fire to it thinking about Arthur in bed with someone else in New York. He hoped Arthur was too busy for such pursuits, but what did it have to do with Merlin really? Arthur had promised him nothing. The future remained a closed door for them – acknowledging it meant admitting they didn’t have one, and Merlin wanted to pretend that there was some hope whilst his still could.

This was why there was little point in telling him about Edwin, and what had happened with his mother. Stuff like that was for someone who you knew you had a future with. Someone who needed and deserved to know what they were getting if they took you on. So, whilst it was fair to say he and Arthur were getting to know one another better – not just physically – there were some things that had to remain unsaid. 

The longer Arthur was absent for, the more negative Merlin’s thoughts became, until he had reduced their relationship back down to ‘just sex’ in his head – for Arthur anyway; not for Merlin.

He supposed he should make the effort whilst still in this competition and head downstairs to join the others – those who had not gone home that is – Lance, Leon and Gwen were still around. Gwaine had gone to see his kid; probably wanting to avoid Sophia as well as it had turned out to be true about her and Ev the cameraman and apparently, for a couple of weeks before she’d got it on with Gwaine she’d been sleeping with Morgause. Morgana had vanished for home before Merlin had had his chance to grab her – no one knew where she had gone – so Merlin’s plans to quiz her about what she was up to had been shelved.

He was saved from his efforts at being sociable by the bell, or rather the eighties pop Bananarama ringtone of his mobile phone. He smiled when he saw it was Arthur; for all his depressing thoughts, Arthur was the one person he wanted to talk to above everyone else, “Hello?” he answered, trying not to sound too eager.

“I miss you,” Arthur said immediately, and Merlin’s heart jumped into his throat. “I’ve cut my trip short; I’ll be home in the morning so we can spend the day together?”

“Er -” Merlin hesitated; he’d agreed to spend the day with Leon tomorrow. Leon had mentioned he’d never done the London tourist thing – open topped bus, Tower of London, Houses of Parliament, and Merlin had offered to go with him, with his camera in tow – the tourist trail was something he hadn’t done since he was on a school trip over ten years before. 

“Have you got other plans?” Arthur queried sharply, and Merlin wanted to say that no, of course he didn’t, that he wanted nothing more than to spend the time with Arthur – and that of course was the truth – but he couldn’t let Leon down: the other man had excitedly made an itinerary in the way a young child might. Merlin couldn’t face the disappointment on his face if he cancelled their plans.

“I’m going sightseeing,” Merlin confessed. “I can’t get out of it now.”

“Oh,” Arthur sounded so disappointed, Merlin realised he couldn’t win. “You’ll come round in the evening though, won’t you? It’ll give me chance to sleep off the jet leg anyway.”

“I wouldn’t miss it,” Merlin told him, smiling into the phone. Arthur was coming home early – of course he didn’t have anyone else in New York. Merlin was getting paranoid over nothing. Just like that his negativity flew out of the window and he was back in the happy glow of Arthur’s near presence.

How could his mood change so swiftly? He’d been a miserable lump the last few days. He’d been wallowing.

“Great – we’ll order some food in,” Arthur confirmed. “Now, what’ve you been up to – you weren’t answering last night when I called, did you go out?”

Merlin ignored the slight accusation in Arthur’s tone, he had nothing to apologise for, and told Arthur about his evening with his Godfather. The two of them talked for over an hour before Arthur had to end the call and Merlin retired for an early night, knowing that the sightseeing the next day would be tiring.

=+=

By mid afternoon the following day, Merlin was exhausted, and seriously pissed off. He could be at Arthur’s right now, snuggled up to him as he slept through his jet lag. Instead he was traipsing through a crowded tourist trap looking at the bloody crown jewels of all things, with an unwelcome presence pressed against his back.

Leon had invited Cen.

If Merlin had known this was going to happen he would have let the two of them have a day out together without him and gone round to Arthur’s the moment his plane landed.

“You smell good,” Cen murmured into his ear, his breath tickling Merlin’s neck – Merlin’s magic protesting at the proximity. If he wasn’t careful there could be a national security alert as Merlin’s magic smashed the glass containing the priceless jewels and Merlin would be thrown into jail for attempting to steal the nation’s treasure.

“I don’t feel so well,” Merlin said, and it wasn’t even a lie, he felt like he was losing control again. “I need fresh air.” He managed to push through the crowd and one look at his green face and the guard was opening the side fire door for his hasty retreat. He collapsed back against the cold stone of the wall, sinking to a crouch, his head between his knees, waiting for the moment to pass.

This was becoming a habit.

His head spun, but with the cool breeze on his face and the removal of the alien unwanted presence, he began to feel human again. He had to get out of there though; he couldn’t be in that situation any longer.

Somehow he found his way out of the tower grounds and into a taxi, Arthur’s address tripping off his tongue as he leant back into the leather and closed his eyes. What the fuck had that been? He couldn’t be touched by anyone other than Arthur? True, he didn’t want to be touched by anyone else, but he didn’t want to be passing out every time someone tried. He texted Leon to apologise and say he was would see him later.

Arthur answered the intercom with a sleepy voice, buzzing Merlin in and waiting by the door for his arrival out of the lift. The events of the few hours flew out of Merlin’s head as he saw Arthur, sleep rumpled and so bloody kissable with his low slung pyjama bottoms and bare feet.

Merlin walked into the hallway, and Arthur shut the door behind him. They stared at one another for a long minute before Merlin launched himself in Arthur’s direction, attacking his lips, pushing him back against the door and pressing his body flush in to Arthur’s. The nearness of the other washed away his magical tension.

All thoughts of Cen’s unwanted attentions and his tiredness vanished now that he had Arthur back in his arms. His Arthur. They didn’t speak, preferring to kiss instead, Merlin exploring Arthur’s mouth, his hands knotted in his hair as he pulled him into him. Arthur’s hands palmed Merlin’s arse and Merlin could feel his erection through his tented pyjama bottoms. Oh God, he didn’t think he could ever get enough of this man.

He moved his hands lower, along the curve of Arthur’s neck, pulling out of the kiss and replacing his hands with his mouth, letting his hands drift down across Arthur’s chest. The heels of Merlin’s palms pressed into Arthur’s nipples, his lips following the path his hands were taking, over the sculpted canvas of Arthur’s stomach, teasing his navel, needy fingers hooking over the waistband of Arthur’s bottoms and pushing them slowly out of the way to reveal his aroused flesh, pointing upwards towards Merlin invitingly.

Merlin dragged the bottoms down to Arthur’s knees, letting his nails scratch down his thighs as he dropped to a crouch in front of him, brushing the tip of his nose against the head of Arthur’s cock. He looked up at Arthur who was watching him now through sleepy narrowed eyes, and winked at him, snaking out his tongue to circle the head of his cock, tasting the precome and wanting more. He set about his explorations with an eager tongue and a desperate need to make Arthur come.

Arthur tipped his head back against the door, threaded his fingers through Merlin’s hair and groaned.

Merlin hummed contentedly to himself; steadied Arthur’s hips with his hands as he buried his nose in blonde curls, and thought that nothing could be better than this.

=+=

The break was over too soon, and once again Merlin found himself bleary eyed in front of Sir Uther in the kitchen of the house being given instructions for their latest task. 

The time he was spending at Arthur’s instead of the house was becoming more noticeable so he’d invented an ‘old friend’ who he told people he was spending time with if they asked.

The new task was weddings; to be more precise, wedding dresses and accessories, and to make matters worse, Sir Uther told Merlin he wanted him to lead Sorcery with Gwen leading Phoenix. They were to spend four days at the Wedding Show at the NEC in Birmingham; most profit wins as per usual. 

Merlin had photographed a lot of weddings, so he knew far more than he would wish to admit to about them, but because of that he knew how competitive the wedding market was. His heart sank at the prospect of running this task.

“I love weddings!” Cen exclaimed the moment Sir Uther had left and they were left to their own devices in their office. “So much fun and an excellent excuse to get all dressed up and spend money to excess! What’s not to love?”

Merlin perked up a little. Cen was an openly gay man with a love of weddings – there could be some mileage here.

“OK, here’s the brief then guys,” Merlin started, opening up the folder that contained a large selection of wedding dress designers, and a load of other wedding related things – cakes, underwear, favours, shoes, jewellery... They had to choose two designers they wanted to sell dresses for and two other products. “We’ve only got today to get out there, see all this stuff and make our choices – and we have to hope the other team pick different products to us otherwise we will have to fight it out and could lose to them.”

They spent a while flipping through info on potential designers, “I’m going to split us into two – Cen and Morgana, myself and Gwaine.” He’d wanted to put himself with Morgana but Gwaine and Cen were still not talking, and there was no space in this task for micro managing them if they started bickering.

Morgana was a stylish woman; he hoped she’d know what style of wedding dresses might sell. He thought he had a good idea himself as well, but he knew nothing about fabric, or prices – he hoped Morgana might be a little more clued up than he was. They just had to get out there and find the right designers.

“One thing,” he said before they all jumped into their separate cars to visit the designers. “We need to be exclusive – there cannot be anyone else at that show selling the products we are. No exceptions.” He’d seen candidates on previous shows make that mistake, he wasn’t about to make that error.

In the corner of his eye he saw Arthur smile and make some hasty notes. He waited until the others were on their way out to the cars, the camera crew on their heels, and stopped dead in the doorway so that Arthur crashed into him, “Sorry Mr Pendragon,” he said professionally, even as his cock hardened at the feel of Arthur’s hand sliding over his hipbone under the pretence of steadying him. “I’m too clumsy for words.”

“No problem Merlin,” Arthur replied, cupping Merlin’s arse before pushing him forward and out to the car. Arthur sat beside him on the backseat, their thighs aligned, Merlin hyper aware of his proximity as he talked to Gwaine about who would say what when they met with designers. His mind slipped back to their trip to Somerset in the limo. Oh God; this was so not the time to be thinking about that.

“Merlin, are you OK?” Gwaine asked with concern. “You look a little flushed.”

“I’m fine Gwaine, just worried about the task that’s all,” he slid a sideways death glance at a smirking Arthur. “Perhaps it’s a good thing that you’re taking the lead on this first meeting.”

If anyone could charm the pants off a wedding dress designer it would be Gwaine.

=+=

By the end of the working day they had secured their first and third choices of wedding designers, having lost their second to the other team and Sophia’s probable simpering over all things sparkly. Now they had a mid priced range, affordable to the masses. They had also taken a punt on a new designer whose dresses were very expensive, but unique - a much harder sale, but if they managed it they would be laughing. Morgana had fallen madly in love with this designer’s work and assured Merlin that the dresses would be irresistible to any bride with taste and a few quid to spend.

The chosen accessories – again, with Morgana’s influence – were a range of sexy underwear meant to go under the wedding dress and eventually arouse the hell out of the groom on the wedding night, and the final product was a selection of designer shoes. Merlin had taken on board Morgana’s suggestion that they should stock items for women only and nothing that would require a joint decision with the groom as it was unlikely that the groom would be present.

He just hoped they had chosen the right products. Cen had worked hard on sales projections and profit margins; they knew how much they could knock off prices in accordance with the designer’s instructions – they were good to go.

They were heading to Birmingham that evening, staying the Metropole Hotel next to the NEC. Merlin packed his camera and his mini printer at the last minute thinking it would be a good idea to offer photographs to the brides of themselves in the dress so that they could carry it round as a reminder. This meant they had to stop at the Staples superstore on the way out of London, picking up photo printing paper and when Merlin spotted the instant business card machine, he had the idea to buy some with the details of their stand on so that people would know where to come back to if they wanted to browse further before making the decision.

He was quite proud of himself for the brainwave.

Now, all he wanted was to get to the hotel and snuggle up with Arthur in his hotel room until the stupidly early time they had to get up to set up their stand before opening time at 10am.

In the end, Merlin went to Arthur’s room, collapsing in an exhausted heap on the bed, “Don’t even think about it,” he threatened Arthur. “I’m too tired to move.”

“Then don’t,” Arthur teased, slowly divulging Merlin of his clothes before settling himself over his thighs and taking his cock in his mouth. “You stay perfectly still; all you have to do is come.”

Merlin did; and by the time Arthur was through with him, more than once.

=+=

The days passed in a blur of exhaustion fuelled adrenaline. Merlin did wonder how it was he managed to end up project managing two mammoth tasks; the Glastonbury one had been just as exhausting – but back then he hadn’t had Arthur to curl into every night after a bout of mind blowing sex. The constant flow of orgasms certainly helped him to relax. 

The good times couldn’t last. Three days into the exhibition it all went to pot. First of all, Arthur was called away overnight, back to London, for an entertainment/breakfast meeting with some important overseas clients, thus wouldn’t be back until the following afternoon. Merlin retired to his hotel room – the first night he would spend in there as Arthur’s was so much more welcoming – and after a quick sandwich from room service, he collapsed into bed.

He should never have answered the door; but half asleep as he was he hadn’t thought to use his magic to check who was on the other side, or to even think about not answering the summons. So, clad just in pyjama bottoms with his hair sticking out at every possible angle, he ambled to the door and flung it open, only realising the error in this when it to revealed Cen, bottle of wine in one hand and two glasses in the other, leaning against the doorjamb trying to appear nonchalant. 

He waggled his eyebrows at Merlin and was in through the door before Merlin had a chance to open his mouth to protest, “You’re a difficult man to get on his own,” Cen flirted, circling Merlin and eyeing him up and down appreciatively. “Worth the wait though.”

Merlin’s foggy brain cranked into gear, “Cen I -”

“I’ve been waiting to do this for weeks,” Cen was saying, cutting over Merlin’s slow response. Somehow he’d put down his alcoholic cargo and his hands had found Merlin’s hips and he was being backed towards the bed, a dark stubbly jaw nuzzling his neck.

Merlin panicked. He didn’t want this – he so did not want this – and his magic reared to life at the intrusion, “Cen I don’t think this is a good idea,” Merlin tried desperately as the full red lips snapped over his, pushing him back onto the bed. Merlin wriggled, pushing Cen back with all of his strength, but only succeeding in making him falter briefly before his lips were back on Merlin’s, pinning Merlin to the bed with his thighs on either side of Merlin’s hips.

“Merlin, Jesus, you’re perfect,” Cen was saying between kisses, oblivious to Merlin’s futile attempts to shove him away; Cen was much bigger than Merlin and much stronger. His hot breath was making Merlin’s stomach churn as the unwanted attentions became more determined. His panic took hold in earnest, utter revulsion flaring in Merlin’s blood, the magic protesting because someone other than Arthur was doing this to him.

“No!” Merlin said. “Cen – no!”

“Come on Merlin, you know -”

“I said no!” and with that, his magic gave off a powerful shockwave, emanating out of Merlin in a golden pulse. It knocked Cen unconscious and left Merlin feeling drained as the pulse made its way through the room, breaking mirrors and crockery before bouncing back and fizzling out.

Cen collapsed on top of him, dead to the world; a lead weight. Merlin struggled to twist out from beneath him, unable to push him off. “Fuck,” he managed, looking down at the immobile man, then around the room at the debris his magic had left. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

With a shaky hand he checked Cen’s pulse and breathed a sigh of relief when he found it; he was out cold. 

He waved a hand and the mirror repaired itself and the crockery knitted back together. Satisfied he moved over to the phone and called reception, asking if they had a doctor they usually called if a guest was unwell. His senses were reeling, he needed to get out of there, but his conscience wouldn’t let him leave without making sure his unwelcome amour was going to be OK. Yes he was angry, but he shouldn’t have answered the door. He should have seen this coming – he had seen it coming hadn’t he? He should have said something sooner – a lot sooner.

A doctor arrived after about ten minutes; a no-nonsense fifty-something man who didn’t bat an eyelid at Cen’s prone state. He checked him over and declared him merely intoxicated and in need to a good night’s sleep, followed by paracetamol and a couple of pints of water when he woke up. 

Cen had had a couple but not enough for this comatose state; Merlin could only hope that the rest of it was an overdose of magic. Either way, he was still stuck with an unconscious man mountain on his bed and it didn’t look as though that situation would be changing any time soon.

He felt overwhelmed with the need to get out of there, away from Cen, away from the scene of the ‘crime’. Yanking on a t-shirt, he cast one last resentful glare at his immobilised assailant and stormed out of the room, up to the next floor to Arthur’s empty room and let himself in with his magic. Arthur wasn’t there, but Merlin felt safer with his things around him, the scent of Arthur’s cologne lingering in the air. 

He crawled under the duvet and wrapped it around himself, realising he was shaking. Would Cen have listened to him if he’d said no enough times? He hadn’t seemed to notice that Merlin wasn’t responding to his advances. Merlin shuddered as he recalled the feel of the man’s lips on his. He’d been drinking, that much was obvious. What if Merlin hadn’t had magic to save him?

Why did he have to do this now, if at all, in the middle of a task? Tomorrow was going to be mightily awkward, if Cen was even awake by then. Fuck.

Again he wished he’d addressed this sooner.

The knock at this door almost had him falling out of bed. Surely Cen wouldn’t have woken up and tracked him down to here? This time he was wise, he reached out to sense whoever was at the door and found it was Morgana.

With a weary sigh he clambered out of the bed, resigned to getting little sleep that night, and opened the door. Morgana was staring at the floor, biting her lip and bobbing nervously. Very un-Morgana like.

“Arthur can I have a word?” she began before looking up and seeing Merlin. “Oh! I should have thought this through,” she chastised herself. Her disappointment was evident.

“He’s not here,” Merlin said. “He’s been called away on business.”

“Oh, well OK, I’ll try and catch him when he gets back, it can wait.”

“Do you think it’s time we had that chat?”

Morgana shrank back, “Merlin I don’t think -”

“Otherwise I might start to think you have designs on my -” On his what? “On Arthur.” He held the door open pointedly.

Morgana sighed heavily and entered. 

Merlin gestured to the sofa near the window and Morgana obediently settled onto it. Merlin sat at the other end and waited.

“I don’t have designs on Arthur,” she said eventually, turning to look him directly in the eye. “Not that way anyway...I mean I do have an interest, but not a romantic one.”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear this, but at least it was distracting him from what had just happened back in his room.

“He’s the reason I’m here. I don’t want or need to win this competition, I wanted to find a way to get to know Arthur, and he me, before I tell him that -” she paused and looked at her twisting hands in her lap. “- that I’m his big sister.”

Merlin gaped. Morgana was Arthur’s sister?

“You mean Uther..?”

Morgana shook her head vigorously, “No, Ygraine – Arthur’s mother. I was adopted before she met Uther.”

“But why all this? Why not just approach him? Arthur would be so happy to know he has a sister – and nieces! Arthur’s an uncle!” Arthur would love that Merlin knew. He looked at Morgana, her nervous demeanour not like the Morgana he’d gotten to know over the last few weeks.

“I’m scared he’ll reject me,” she admitted, her eyes filling with tears. “I’ve never had a loving family until I met Alvarr and had the girls. The people who adopted me were in their fifties when they took me in. They didn’t really know how to be parents. My real mother – Arthur’s mother – worked in their stables; I was adopted privately. Ygraine met Uther a year after that. I don’t know if he knows about me.”

“Arthur won’t reject you,” Merlin assured, knowing he was right. “He actually rather likes you already.”

“I don’t know how to act, I keep messing up, I try to smile and I sneer at him, I try to act natural and I just come across as a cold bitch – and perhaps I am that, that’s how I’ve always been. It took Alvarr months of perseverance before I would even go for a drink with him – I liked him too, but I was scared to let him see that.”

“I won’t tell Arthur about this, I promise,” Merlin said, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. “But you need to, and soon, because I’m shit at keeping secrets. My face gives me away every time.”

“I’ll tell him after this task, I promise,” she said and kissed him on the cheek. “I had been planning to tell him tonight! I’ve been planning the whole thing in my head for weeks, and I finally mustered up the courage.”

Merlin hoped she found an opportunity soon. “Good,” Merlin said, trying to smile but unable to shake the sensation of Cen’s lips on his. If ever there was a time he needed Arthur, it was now. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, Morgana finally saying, “I’m glad you made me tell you. I feel like a weight has been lifted. I should have done it weeks ago. I kept meaning to; but winning these tasks is kind of addictive and I’ll have to quit once I’ve told him.”

“Why?”

“I’m here under false pretences; I bribed someone to get through! I think it’s only fair that I leave.”

“If I were you I’d wait till the interviews in week 11, if you don’t get fired first, and flunk out on those on purpose – less scandalous than quitting when you’re so near the end.”

“Hmm, you could have a point,” she bit her lip and focussed on Merlin. “What about you – this thing with you and Arthur – you know that if you win and it comes out you’ll be accused of sleeping your way to victory – by other candidates and the papers.”

Merlin had thought about this more and more lately as he and Arthur got increasingly involved with each other. He didn’t want to think about it now, “I’ve got a more pressing problem,” he evaded, going cold at the memory of Cenred’s lips on his.

“Oh God Merlin, what’s wrong?” Morgana noticed his renewed pallor. “Has something happened?”

“Cenred’s unconscious on my bed downstairs because I accidentally knocked him out when, er, he jumped me.”

“Oh Merlin – he didn’t hurt you did he? I’ll knock him into next week if he did!” she exclaimed, her eyes flashing angrily. “I told him -”

“No, no – he’s definitely come off worse from this encounter,” Merlin sighed. “He just freaked me out for a while, that’s all. He’s considerably bigger than me.”

Morgana got to her feet and headed to the mini-bar. “You need a brandy,” she decided. “Come to that, so do I.”

=+=

When Merlin, slightly fuzzy from the brandy, returned to his own room the following morning, Cen had left. The hotel issue notepad was on the pillow and Cen had scrawled ‘Sorry’. Merlin screwed up the paper and flung it in the bin, still angry despite the passing of time.

He tried not to let the tenseness between himself and Cen translate into the task, but after a couple of hours of it, he took a coffee break and called Will to tell him what had happened, needing to get it off his chest – yes, he’d told Morgana, but he’d tried to laugh it off with her – he needed to rant about it, and Will was the only person he could do that to.

Merlin returned to the stand after twenty minutes on the phone to Will and was now making appreciative noises to a radiant, prospective bride who was trying on their most expensive dress. He hadn’t wanted to go back inside after talking to Will, but he had to – he was managing the task. He had to keep busy as much as possible; he also had to avoid Cen.

Merlin glanced at Arthur, who had returned a few minutes after Merlin had made his way back inside, watching as Arthur’s eyes narrowed at the stilted interactions between Merlin and his team mate. Merlin itched to wrap his arms around Arthur, draw some comfort – they hadn’t seen each other in hours - but he couldn’t, the cameras were watching.

He felt safer knowing Arthur was there. 

“How does it feel on?” he turned his attention to his customer. She genuinely did look wonderful in the dress; the cut was flattering to her pear shaped figure. 

“Like a fairy princess,” she admitted, turning again in the mirror. “This is the one – right Mum?”

An older woman standing to the side beamed, “It’s the best yet,” she said, her tone implying that they’d seen a lot of dresses.

“I’ll take it – I mean obviously I want one made to measure as this one’s a bit long for me – but yes, this is the one.” She disappeared back into the changing area calling over her shoulder, “Mum’s paying.”

Merlin did the paperwork, feeling suddenly lightened – this sale was worth £7,000! As they walked away he let out a breath and punched the air, “Yes!” He hugged Gwaine, and as he turned to Cen, both of them awkwardly appraised the other before shaking hands. Shit.

He sidled over to Arthur, “How was the meeting?”

Arthur was looking at him oddly. 

“Long,” Arthur said. “Merlin, what’s going on?”

Merlin’s heart nearly stopped. Where did he start? With Cen? Or Morgana? 

He looked at Arthur now, at his expectant face, and replied, “Not now – later yeah?”

Merlin smiled nervously before turning away to assist a customer who was browsing the shoes. But he didn’t miss Arthur’s frown.

=+=

Merlin held a quick debrief with the team when they got back to London and had freshened up. He was pleased overall with how they had performed; if they lost it would be very unlucky, it just depended on the sales figures of the other team at the end of the day.

As it was the end of the task, Arthur and Gaius didn’t stay over in the house, and by the time they were debriefed, it was far too late to go over to his; Merlin sent him a quick text and went to bed alone.

The boardroom was upon them all too soon. Cen had been trying to get Merlin by himself since they got back into London, and in the end, Merlin caved and followed Cen into an empty office next to the boardroom whilst they waited for the crew to set up.

Merlin stayed near the door, inordinately nervous that Cen might still be under the illusion that Merlin was attracted to him.

“Merlin, about the other night,” he said quickly. “I was out of line and I’m sorry.” He stared Merlin down, making him swallow and back up. 

The door flew open then, “Merlin, have you got a minute?” Arthur said, appearing in the doorway, his blue eyes glittering coldly.

“I -” Merlin glanced at Cen.

“We’re kinda busy here actually,” Cen said to Arthur, folding his arms defensively and glaring at him. 

Arthur squared his shoulders, stepping further into the room, putting himself between Merlin and Cen, “You don’t get to tell me what to do,” he snarled. “Merlin – a word please?”

“Now, hang on,” Cen spluttered, turning an unflattering shade of red. “You can’t just order him around like that! Your name may be Pendragon but you don’t frighten me!”

Arthur stepped closer to him, his fists curling by his sides. Merlin was frozen to the spot; this was a side of Arthur he had never seen before.

“Now, Merlin and I were in the middle of something before you rudely interrupted,” Cen pressed on, moving over to Merlin, and oblivious to the warning signs, throwing an arm possessively around Merlin’s shoulder. “Right Merlin?”

Merlin had tensed, immediately wanting distance from the contact. 

“Get your hands off him,” Arthur said menacingly. “Now.”

“Or you’ll what – have me fired? I’ll -” Merlin was never to hear what Cen was about to say as Arthur’s right fist connected with Cen’s jaw, sending him reeling backwards, his arm falling off Merlin’s shoulder as he slammed into the wall behind. 

“You don’t want to know what I’ll do to you if you ever come near him again,” Arthur calmly threatened. He turned towards Merlin who was looking at Arthur in shock. “Merlin?”

On autopilot, Merlin followed Arthur from the room. Arthur immediately pulled him into the adjacent office. “Are you OK?” he asked, concern etched onto his face as he looked at Merlin. “Morgana just told me what happened the other night. Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We haven’t -” We haven’t been alone together since, he was about to say. They had got back from Birmingham too late and then it was the boardroom and this conversation was really happening.

“I don’t want you spending time alone with him again,” Arthur was saying. Merlin’s world span on its axis at those words; words he’d never thought he’d hear from Arthur Pendragon’s lips. The words bore an uncanny resemblance to something he’d heard from Edwin in relation to Will.

His mind began to whir. Who did Arthur think he was? Did he think him incapable of understanding for himself that he ought to stay away from Cenred after the other night? How dare he try to control him like this? 

For a long moment the rest of the world faded away as Merlin was plunged into a dark memory, of a time when Edwin hadn’t even liked him going to see his Mum because Will lived there too. Edwin had already driven the wedge in between Merlin and his best friend. Merlin had let him; now, just the memory brought back how fucking pathetic he was, how useless. His Mother had been so worried about him that the last time he’d called to cancel a visit for dinner, she’d told him she was coming over to him, that she wouldn’t take no for an answer anymore, that she needed to check her boy was OK.

She hadn’t made it, and when Merlin had the call from the hospital, he hadn’t made it in time. She’d been dead before he got there. He couldn’t forgive himself for that. She had died because he hadn’t had the balls to stand up to Edwin. Edwin had taken control of him so thoroughly he’d totally lost himself, made him believe he was so repulsive that no one else would ever want him...

Arthur put a hand on Merlin’s shoulder, and Merlin recoiled back from his touch, “Merlin – are you alright?”

Merlin dredged up the words from somewhere, alien words that he should have said to Edwin that first time, but was saying to Arthur now instead. Stepping back and reaching out to fumble for the door handle Merlin whispered: “Stay away from me from now on.” He pushed past Arthur and out into the corridor, just in time for Ewan’s appearance to call them into to start filming.

Everyone assembled in around the table. Merlin was hyper-aware of Arthur’s pale face, of Arthur’s eyes trying to catch his as he looked anywhere but at him. He felt like he was watching the scene from outside his own body as Sir Uther slid open the doors and took his seat.

As he had hoped for, his team won by a huge margin, clocking up sales of £23,986 compared to the other team’s £6,372. Merlin vaguely registered this, and knew he’d been answering Sir Uther’s questions, but it was another Merlin, not him – he was sure he hadn’t been able to speak a word.

“An outstanding performance from team Sorcery,” Sir Uther had praised the team once the results were announced.

Merlin managed to fake a smile when Sir Uther sent them to enjoy a private cooking lesson from Jamie Oliver even though he privately couldn’t stand the idiot. He’d won his second task but he couldn’t feel anything but numb. Through the drama of the last few days he’d had this whole competition on the back burner – he probably didn’t deserve the credit for the win. He’d sold £12,000 worth of wedding dress in two dresses, plus a few sundries – the sales numbers had come from the others. As a team though, they really had wiped the floor with the others.

It didn’t look good for Gwen.

He stuck to Morgana’s side for the rest of the day, their shared secret a new bond between them – he couldn’t look at Cenred and his rapidly developing bruise. He had half a mind to apologise, but Cen had taken to glaring at him now. The man would have to be a moron not to realise that something had been going on between him and Arthur, and Cen was no moron.

Something had been going on, but no longer. Merlin wasn’t letting anyone try to control him again. No one was going to tell him who he could and couldn’t be friends with ever again. Not even Arthur Pendragon.

When they got back to the house they only had to wait twenty minutes for the other team to come back, a tearful Gwen sobbing that Lance had been fired because he’d been responsible for picking a range of wedding dresses that had been ‘funky’ and they hadn’t sold a single one. Sir Uther had made her bring everyone back due to them all under-performing, so she hadn’t been able to save Lance.

Poor Lance. It was getting down to the wire with the competition now though; only one more task before the interview stages. The interviews were always horrendous to watch on TV, the interviewers asking particularly nasty questions, getting people to tie themselves in knots. 

He didn’t think he could face it. He wasn’t going to win this now. All he wanted was to go home, back to his old life, back to Will and their cat, and his photography. Away from this TV bubble, away from Arthur.

His suitcase was by the door where he’d dumped it after bringing it back from the boardroom. He threw it on the bed and magicked all his belongings inside.

Merlin was quitting this shit. He was going home.

=+=


	11. Week Ten

Week Ten

When Merlin woke up the next day, following a disturbed night of nightmarish dreams of Arthur running for his life, Will was sitting at their kitchen table, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee, glaring at Merlin. “What the fuck have you done?” he accused. Merlin had already been in bed when Will had come home the night before, which had suited Merlin perfectly, the inevitable showdown delayed until morning.

“I’ve had enough, I’ve quit,” Merlin huffed padding barefoot into the kitchen and pouring himself some coffee – a necessity if he was going to survive the rest of this conversation. “They don’t know I’m not going back yet.”

“You idiot. What on earth for?” Will’s eyes followed his every move and Merlin knew there was no escape from this interrogation. “Don’t tell me they’ve found out about you and Pendragon Jnr and asked you to leave? Man, that’s -”

“No Will, they haven’t found out about me and Arthur,” he pulled out a chair and sat down opposite his best friend. “There is no ‘me and Arthur’ anymore anyway so none of that matters.” 

Will sighed, “What happened?”

Merlin took a long swig of his coffee and told Will about Morgana’s telling Arthur about Cen hitting on him and Arthur punching Cen. When he moved on to tell him how he’d told Arthur to stay away from him, Arthur’s face flashed into his mind, his shock, and the way he’d tried to get Merlin to look at him during the boardroom. He pushed it away, not wanting to be reminded of how he had royally and spectacularly fucked things up. 

There was nothing like an abundance of thinking time to get things in perspective, and yes, he realised he’d totally messed up.

“Let me get this straight in my head,” Will said. “This Cen bloke jumps you and scares the living shit out of you, yeah?” 

Merlin nodded with a shudder. “I already told you that.”

“Pendragon finds out and lamps him one?” Will was shaking his head incredulously. “So – you fucked him over for defending you.”

“What? No! Yes. It wasn’t so much his hitting Cen, it was what he said to me afterwards; he said he didn’t want me spending time alone with him again – exactly what Edwin told me about you.” 

No one had told him that it would hurt this much, that being away from Arthur with no prospect of ever seeing him again would feel like this; as though someone had casually reached up and batted the sun out of the sky and left him only with darkness.

Will’s face softened, “Edwin is a total prick. Pendragon sounds like someone I’d like to meet and you know I never like anyone until they’ve bought me a beer. I tell you now, I feel like heading down to London and knocking this Cenred’s block off for what he did; Pendragon clearly cares for you if he’s being this protective. Not every bloke is gonna be like Edwin. You know that Edwin was a special case, that he’d never have got to you if he wasn’t a little magic as well.”

“That had nothing to do with it,” Merlin protested. 

“Mate, you were awestruck by him because you’d never met anyone who was like you.”

Will was right, Merlin knew that; it had been the magic that had attracted him to Edwin – magic could sense the presence of other magic users apparently – and Merlin had wanted to impress the older man. He’d been in too deep and too fast; what he’d thought was love had been infatuation; the attraction had been the magical energy, not to Edwin himself. Edwin had been a manipulator; Merlin his naive young victim.

Never again. “I thought – it felt like for a while that Arthur wants to keep me all to himself, wants to tell me what to do – I promise you Will, I’m not falling for it again. But – I’ve ‘slept’ on it,” by which he meant ‘lain awake all night staring at the ceiling’. His twisted thoughts and his protesting magic had ensured he had no rest; the magic was keyed to his heart, not his brain. “I know Arthur’s different. It just scares me how much I feel for him Will. I’m afraid of being hurt again.”

“So you’re not hurt now? Mate, you know I love you, but sometimes you can be really dense. So Arthur got a little possessive and protective – would you rather he stood aside and let some other guy maul you again? The man is crazy about you, and I can tell that without even having met the dude.” 

Merlin couldn’t find the words to articulate a reply.

Will checked his watch and stood up, peering out the window and down into the road. “It’s half day closing today but, I think I’ll close for the whole day – I’m taking you back to London. You’ve got too far in the competition to give up now! You’re almost there!”

He’d wanted to go back the minute his adrenaline fuelled journey home was over and he’d realised how much he missed Arthur already: so much for his decision that he never wanted to see Arthur again. Like he could do that: it would be easier to forget to breathe. He groaned and face planted the table.

He loved him. He, Merlin Emrys, was in love with Arthur Pendragon.

When had that happened?

=+=

Will wasn’t easily persuaded, but Merlin managed to convince him to at least open the shop that morning; he wanted to go for a walk to clear his head and where better than the hills surrounding his hometown? 

Will was right, he was dense. How had he not noticed a little thing like falling in love? Not in love with a possessive control freak who wanted to keep Merlin locked away but with a strong proud man who would do anything to protect those he cared about.

Merlin hoped his realisations were not coming too late. He remembered how protective he had been over Arthur; Kanen’s magically induced ailment, various people with boils on their noses. He recalled promising himself that he would turn Morgana bald if she hurt Arthur. He had no doubt that he still would if she turned out to be anything other than who she’d said she was.

Just because his own methods were less obvious didn’t make him any less guilty. 

Arthur’s protectiveness hadn’t only been using his fists against Cenred; he’d looked after him when he was injured, the way he’d made love to him that time in Morocco, how he’d told Merlin he was beautiful to him, how he was always reassuring Merlin that he wanted him above anyone else.

Merlin’s own tool of choice was magic; Arthur didn’t have that, he had his strength and courage; his methods of defending Merlin were from the resources he had available to him.

If someone had jumped Arthur the way Cen had jumped him, Merlin would have blown their balls off...and then done his very best to keep that person as far away from him as possible.

He knew all this, was slowly coming to realise it; but had he already blown it? Arthur hadn’t as much as tried to call him. His phone had remained depressingly silent, and this time no technical error was to blame. Arthur simply hadn’t tried to make contact.

He’d probably lost him. Oh God. Arthur was the one person who could make him feel like he was someone worth loving in this bleak wilderness that had become his personal life. 

Merlin sat down on the grass at the highest point he could find on Herefordshire Beacon, the world splayed below in all of its glorious greenery; a beautiful sight displayed from the top of a hill that had been there for millions of years and would be there for as long after he had gone. 

This spot had always offered him perspective, from up there all his problems could seem to insignificant and petty. The world still turned, the sun still rose, and Merlin still loved Arthur; and whilst it was so liberating being up there, Merlin knew in that moment that it was time, that he had to go back to London and face Arthur if it was the last thing he did, because if he didn’t, then what was his life worth in the grand scheme of things? Nothing – nothing at all.

Sighing heavily he began the long walk back into town, down the winding footpaths that criss-crossed the hills, finding St Anne’s Road and letting it lead him back to his flat, intending to let Will off the hook by getting the train back to London; they went every hour from the main station in Worcester, he could be back at the house by early evening.

He came to a standstill as he rounded the corner of the approach to the Will’s shop and the entrance to their flat. Will was outside talking to a tall blond man who had his back to Merlin, balancing a box in his arms. Arthur. His magic soared in joy, before plummeting back down into misery again when the man turned and revealed that he was about fifteen years older than Arthur and was probably just a customer taking a purchase to his car. 

In that moment, when he’d thought Arthur had come for him, he’d been ready to run into his arms and tell him he was sorry, that he hadn’t meant what he’d said, that of course he wanted him near to him.

Morosely he clomped up the stairs to the flat and threw himself onto the sofa, head in hands.

Arthur hadn’t come for him. Merlin probably wasn’t worth coming for was he? Not worth the petrol money when for Arthur they may not be any sex in it for him when he got there if Merlin hadn’t wavered. The voice in his head screamed at him, told him that he was a fool for letting his thoughts go down that route – and he listened to it, he really did, because he was getting better at believing in himself. He just wished that the new found confidence he’d discovered didn’t teeter so precariously on a knife’s edge.

Merlin had to take strength from the fact that he had survived nine weeks of ‘The Apprentice’ without being on the other end of the firing finger, and that was something to be proud of. He’d won the two tasks he’d project managed! Arthur wanted him, had been trying so hard to get to know him... He didn’t add ‘Cenred wants me’ to his list; he wanted to forget all about that and what could have happened.

Would he have followed Arthur if the shoe had been on the other foot? Merlin doubted it; in fact, he knew he wouldn’t have, because if Arthur rejected him he wouldn’t have been able to go back for more. He thought back then to how Arthur had been when Merlin had missed all those messages from him; confident businessman Arthur Pendragon wasn’t so full of it when it came to Merlin was he? Arthur actually seemed to suffer from similar insecurities about Merlin’s feelings for him.

Merlin couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it before.

He had to get back to London now.

“You ready to go now?” Will let himself into the flat with a clatter of keys and called in to Merlin.

He should never have left. Go and win the contest; and make things right with Arthur, if he hadn’t fucked it all up beyond repair. “Yes I’m ready – but I’ll take the train.”

“No you bloody won’t – I’m delivering you right to the door – I’m not giving you a chance to change your mind. Remember Will knows best.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue.

=+=

“Congratulations to those of you have made it to the tenth week,” Sir Uther boomed. “This is the final task, and for one of you this is the end of the road.” They were standing in the middle of the beauty department in Selfridges, the air full of a thousand different scents.

Merlin swallowed nervously. The final task. There were seven candidates left. How the heck had he made it this far? To think that he’d nearly quit the whole thing a couple of days ago; sometimes he really did act before thinking things through.

Arthur stood to his father’s left, groomed to perfection and as handsome as always, though he looked exhausted, as though he hadn’t slept in a month. He was staring straight ahead, and Merlin knew he was deliberately avoiding his gaze. 

Merlin instantly regretted not trying to talk to him the night before, not going over to his place immediately; but it had been late, and he hadn’t wanted Will to have to drive back that night. Then Cen had sought him out, reeking like he’d fallen in a barrel of lager; and maybe he had been going to apologise, or he was looking for the same from Merlin – but Will had been there, and had slid a protective arm around Merlin and glared daggers at him, and Cen’s eyebrows had lifted as he turned pale and muttered something under his breath before storming out.

Merlin shook his head to clear out the memory and tuned back into Sir Uther, “Perfume is big business; your task today is to create, brand and market a new scent which you will then present to the industry. It can be aimed at men or women.”

Merlin inwardly groaned; he’d hoped they’d got away without doing this task this year as it often came earlier in the series. It was the one where candidates bigged themselves up as experts in pitching or marketing and inevitably made dicks of themselves. 

“Leon, move over to Sorcery please, Cenred to Phoenix,” Sit Uther instructed, and the tow swapped places. There were four candidates in Sorcery and three in Phoenix. “Sophia, you’ll head up Phoenix, Gwaine, I want you to manage Sorcery.”

Merlin heard Gwaine hiss, “Yes!” under his breath.

Merlin had hoped Morgana might have managed this task as she worked in advertising whereas Gwaine was a lawyer. 

It transpired that this was a three day task, much like the one with the beauty products they sold at the market – days one and two: create the scent, start on the branding, plan a strategy, three present it to the industry. 

Merlin was relieved that Arthur was observing his team again this task. He needed to talk to him as soon as possible. Should he have called him last night? A phone call just didn’t cut it did it? He hated this rift between them, knowing that it was his own doing only added to his remorse.

The task began with them gathering around a table in their designated office in the upstairs of Selfridges. Gwaine was bobbing in excitement. “I love this task! We’re gonna win this, no problem. If anyone knows about aftershave it’s me.”

All Merlin heard for the next few minutes was blah, blah, blah, because Arthur was sitting behind him, and Merlin could feel him staring at the back of his head. He could hear his heartbeat, his magic reaching out to him. The magic was pleased to be in Arthur’s vicinity again, but it was not liking the wall that had been erected between them. He pushed it back inside when it came close to the surface. Now was not the time for another magical mishap.

At least Cen was on the other team; he could relax and not worry about any awkward confrontations with him for a while.

Tuning back into the goings on he realised he’d been assigned the task of going down to the shop floor with Morgana to do some market research about what scents were the most popular. He followed her out of the room, the camera close on his heels. Arthur didn’t follow, staying behind to keep any eye on the other two.

This was Merlin’s first time alone with Morgana since his return from home; she’d been out when he and Will came home and had only returned in time for the cars that morning. She beamed at him and seemed to be bursting to talk, but the cameras were dogging them, so instead they set about sniffing scents and talking to sales assistants about what sold well.

Merlin felt quite sick by the time they returned to the office with their findings. Perfume overload; and to him it all kind of smelled the same. However, the best sellers at the moment were aimed at the young twenty-something male. Gwaine commented that he’d rather do a women’s perfume; but admitted that was because he’d hoped to do the model casting and eye up the girls – however, he wanted to win the task and agreed that they should go for the best selling option.

There then followed a discussion about scents, and Merlin again tuned out, reaching out and wrapping his magic around Arthur – Arthur who had still been unable to meet his eye. He’d never tried that before – yes, he’d used his magic to sense someone’s presence – but never like this. He could sense Arthur’s mood, his feelings.

Arthur was wretchedly miserable.

Merlin suddenly felt like crying as he submerged himself in Arthur’s aura. Arthur was fighting with himself...

“Merlin – are you awake?” Gwaine teased, jerking Merlin into reality, drawing his magic back inside of himself. 

“Yep – sorry!” he smiled brightly, feeling like a big fat fraud. 

“Well trying looking it huh? Now, I want you to be the model for the campaign...”

“What? No!” Merlin gasped. “I can’t model. Isn’t advertising supposed to be about selling an image to the consumer? No one’s gonna buy it if it’s me!”

Gwaine rolled his eyes, “Merlin, you’re what – 24? – you’re the right demographic, and you’ve got the exact look that young men your age would aspire to.”

Had someone hit Gwaine over the head with the loony stick? 

“Merlin you really have no idea how you look do you?” sighed Morgana fondly. “Good thing you’ve got me to style you then. With a bit of a trim and the right clothes - move over Britain’s Next Top Model!”

“Isn’t that a girls contest?” Merlin argued weakly. 

“Not the point,” Morgana said. “Now, lets get downstairs and get you sorted as we’re going to do the shoot this afternoon.”

Shit, arguing was going to be pointless. He was going to get fired for being too ugly to model and failing the task for gurning in the photo shoot. There was a reason he preferred being behind the camera.

“Don’t we have to design the fragrance first?” he protested as Morgana tried to steer him out of the room. 

“Have you listened to anything at all?” Gwaine grumbled. “Leon and I are heading over to the lab now – I need those photos for the packaging as well as the advertising, which is why we’re doing it today.”

No, Merlin hadn’t been listening, which is how he ended up, ten minutes later, sitting in a hairdresser’s chair in Selfridge’s salon. Morgana instructed the stylist as to what she wanted. 

“If I’m the demographic for this scent shouldn’t I be helping design it?” he muttered to Morgana, not caring at that point that camera was on him. 

“Gwaine’s only twenty-eight himself,” Morgana replied. “He’s hardly out of the loop, he knows fashion and he wears cologne – you don’t do you?”

No, he didn’t. Soap smelled nice enough!

Morgana leant forward and whispered in his ear, “I haven’t told Arthur yet – I was going to after the last task but, he was looking for you and -” She pulled away as the Ev appeared with the camera to film his make-over, patting his shoulder sympathetically. Merlin mentally finished her sentence, ‘and I ended up telling him that Cen almost forced you.’ He should be annoyed with her but she’d only been looking out for him so it was pointless.

He watched in the mirror as his hair began to change shape. How long was this going to take? He wanted the day to end so that he could get Arthur alone. None of this really mattered anymore. 

Arthur meant more than any of this.

=+=

 

When Merlin and the team arrived back at the house that evening, Merlin felt like a different person entirely. His hair had been cut shorter and was in a just got out of bed kind of style. Morgana had dressed him in tight dark blue jeans that sat low on his hips, a close fitting royal blue t-shirt with a scarf around his neck. His shoes were Converse – which he actually approved of and hoped he could keep, because his were falling to bits.

“Wow Merlin!” squeed Gwen as he walked into the kitchen. “You look hot.”

Even Sophia eyed him up and down approvingly. 

Cen glared at him and went back to studiously ignoring him, staring into the bottom of his glass of wine. Merlin supposed he should talk to him at some point, for the sake of the competition, but he really didn’t want to waste time there when he knew Arthur would be here soon...no, he was here now. Merlin sensed him coming in the front door with Gaius.

“Arthur!” Morgana greeted as he walked in the kitchen. “What do you think of the new Merlin?” Her hands were on Merlin’s shoulders then, turning him to face his estranged lover. 

“Good enough to eat, eh Arthur?” Cen said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I think he looked just fine before,” Arthur said tightly, shooting Cen a cold glare before turning and walking out of the room.

“My boy, I think you look amazing,” Gaius said, seeming oblivious to the tension that had invaded the room.

“Thank you,” Merlin muttered miserably. He sat down at the table and helped himself to a slice of the pizza that someone had just plated up and put down in front of him. He would have to wait a few minutes before following Arthur, although how much of a secret was their fling now? Morgana knew and Cen must have worked it out...

He nibbled the pizza, not really tasting it or wanting it. Something squeezed his heart, his magic pushing him out of his chair and towards the door. Misery swamped him; Arthur was losing it. He managed to mutter a vague excuse, leaving his pizza abandoned on his plate, and headed for stairs.

Arthur’s door was locked, but Merlin dealt with that, letting himself in and locking it behind him. Arthur was on the floor, his back against the side of the bed, head in his hands, and all over the floor around him was broken glass. Merlin could smell the whisky where it dripped down the wall – Arthur had obviously hurled the bottle at the wall.

The air was full of Arthur’s pain. “Arthur?” he began, tentatively.

Arthur didn’t look up, “How did you get in? Go away.”

Merlin ignored him and with a wave of his hand, banished the broken glass and the spilled whisky. 

He walked over and sank down beside the blond. Arthur’s head jerked up, “Careful! There’s glass -” He pointed at the floor. “Wait – where..?”

“It’s all gone now,” Merlin said. Wanting to show Arthur he wasn’t going mad, he blinked and levitated all the things off the chest of drawer – Arthur’s phone, a lamp, some paperwork.

Arthur gasped, “What the fuck was that?”

“I’m a little bit magic,” Merlin understated. “It cleaned up the glass – and I used it to let myself in.”

Arthur was looking at him now, “I’m asleep aren’t I? I’ve manifested you into a magician in my dream. Either that or someone’s slipped something into my tea.”

“You’re not dreaming. I really can do magic.” Merlin let his magic undo Arthur’s tie and float it over to hang on the back of the chair.

“Right,” Arthur said disbelievingly, sounding defeated. “Something else you’ve been keeping from me then.”

“It’s not something I just come out with to everyone I meet you know; you’re only the fifth person to ever know.”

“Lucky me,” Arthur folded his arms over his chest. “Now – was that all?”

Merlin didn’t know what to say next. Arthur was hurting, that much was clear. His instincts – magic – told him this was down to him now; Arthur had no idea where he stood with Merlin – he had stood up and defended him against someone he saw as a threat to Merlin and had been rejected because of it. Arthur didn’t want to put himself out there for Merlin to trample all over him again.

“Do you really think I looked better before this make-over?”

Arthur sighed heavily, “I think you’re beautiful no matter what your hair looks like or what you’re wearing. You’re my -” He stopped and slapped the heel of his palm against his forehead.

Merlin raised his own hand and took Arthur’s, bringing it back down and threading his own fingers through it. “I missed you,” he said, looking down at their entwined hands, taking heart that Arthur hadn’t pulled back. “I went home, intending to never come back and I missed you so much...”

Arthur buried his face in Merlin’s neck and Merlin could feel his heart pounding where his chest rested against his shoulder. “I’m not sorry I hit him,” he finally said. “He’d already tried it once, and he’d got you alone again – I wasn’t going to give him a chance to try it again. I’ve never hit anyone before.”

“Arthur it’s OK -”

“No, it’s not. I freaked you out. I was trying to look out for you and you ended up more afraid of me than you were of him,” he sighed. “It’s just that...you’d been acting funny around him, and I knew he had a thing for you; and when Morgana told me – for a moment when I saw you go into that room together that maybe...that you had... I was jealous.”

Merlin coughed, “Seriously?” he glanced down and saw the set of Arthur’s jaw and realised he was. “Oh.” He pulled back and stared at Arthur.

“You think I would do that?”

“I – no, no I don’t,” his mouth twisted. “I wasn’t thinking straight, and when I went in there, I knew you weren’t... I couldn’t stand the thought of him touching you again.”

“I can take care of myself you know – my magic knocked him out the first time.”

“Remind me to buy your magic a caramel latte tomorrow to thank it,” Arthur reluctantly chuckled, letting the back of his hand trace the path of Merlin’s cheekbone.

“I know you want to know why I reacted how I did, and I promise, I will tell you – just, can you be patient with me please? I’m not -” he trailed off, trying to think of how to word it without sounding as though he didn’t trust Arthur.

“Merlin, in case you haven’t realised it yet, I’m head over heels in love you with you; have been since the first moment I saw you -”

“Was that before or after you rode off into the sunset in my taxi?” Merlin teased, his heart hammering like crazy in his chest at Arthur’s declaration.

Arthur laughed softly, “After – but I’d just had a huge blow up with my father and I was in a vile mood; I didn’t even see you through the red mist. But -you’ve had me in the palm of your hand since day one, only you were too insecure to notice.”

“Oh,” Merlin liked the sound of that. 

“And what I was trying to say is, I’m not going anywhere, and whatever it is you can’t tell me yet, well, I can wait. The – er – magic is enough to take in for one day.”

God it felt good to be here. Merlin turned his head and kissed the corner of Arthur’s mouth.

Arthur gripped the back of Merlin’s neck fiercely and opened his mouth to draw him into a deep, instantly frenzied kiss. Clothes were swiftly discarded, Arthur dragging Merlin to his feet and pushing him back onto the bed, coming down on top of him, straddling his thighs.

“You’re mine,” he muttered as he licked a trail between Merlin’s nipples. The possessiveness in his tone didn’t so much as cause a flicker of panic in Merlin, his magic tingling pleasantly beneath his skin. It was the truth.

He was Arthur’s.

“Show me,” he breathed, bucking his hips and winding his legs around Arthur, pulling him closer, their cocks brushing together teasingly. Merlin reached between them and fastened his hand around them both, slowly stroking up and down, making sure not to break eye contact with Arthur. “Show me.”

“God Merlin,” Arthur hissed, his cheeks flushing pink as Merlin’s pace picked up. He managed to lean over to the drawer by the bed and retrieve a condom and the lube, somehow opening it with shaking fingers and coating his fingers liberally before tearing the condom packet open with his teeth. He knee walked backwards, drawing his gaze raggedly over Merlin as he lay panting in front of him.

Merlin licked his lips and realised that he hadn’t given a second thought to how naked he was in front of Arthur, or worried that the light was too bright, or even had a self-conscious thought. He felt a sudden flush of love, stronger that the lust that pulsed under his skin. 

Arthur’s fingers were pressing into him now. Merlin welcomed the burning sensation, letting his thighs fall open further, canting upwards eagerly, enjoying the feeling of being stretched. “Show me,” Merlin repeated when he felt ready for Arthur’s cock. 

Arthur was on his knees between Merlin’s legs, and at Merlin’s command he pulled Merlin down, bringing his arse up over his knees, letting Merlin’s feet land flat on the bed behind him as he eased himself into him. “Merlin -”

Merlin stretched his arms above his head and gripped on to the headboard, “Come on, fuck me.”

Arthur grinned and with unsuppressed groan, pulled out almost the whole way and slammed back in. Merlin moaned, Arthur repeated the motion; Merlin loved it, he could see Arthur’s cock as it pushed into him, the angle perfectly aligned, adding to the intensity. Watching the expressions chasing across Arthur’s face would have been enough to make come Merlin on its own – but watching Arthur as Arthur fucked him – fucked him – he was so close, his own cock flat against his stomach, the language emanating from his lips and the groans all belonging to the other Merlin as he began to lose control.

He could feel the moment that Arthur’s orgasm began to rise, see it in his face, hear it in his breathing. Oh God Arthur. His own climax took him by surprise, rushing through him; taking his consciousness for a brief second as his muscles clenched around Arthur, come coating his stomach and chest just as Arthur’s thrusts turned erratic and he came, Merlin’s name on his tongue. 

“Fuck,” said Merlin as Arthur slowly lapped the come off his chest and tummy. “We should fall out more often.”

He let his magic pull the duvet over them and wound himself further around Arthur, listening to the combined sound of their breathing as they came back to earth.

As he was dozing off he realised he hadn’t told Arthur he loved him back.

=+=

Bottles of the terribly named (in Merlin’s opinion) Fæger Cologne were packaged in black and white coloured boxes with Merlin’s picture on the front in side in profile. To say he didn’t recognise himself was an understatement. The man on the box wasn’t how he saw himself. 

“Wow,” Gwaine said when the boxes were delivered the morning after the photo shoot. “I knew you’d be perfect.” 

Morgana kissed his cheek and said, “You look bloody hot!”

Merlin felt himself blush furiously. He wasn’t used to such praise regarding his appearance. He glanced at Arthur and received a wink from Arthur’s otherwise perfectly schooled expression.

Unfortunately, Merlin’s torture wasn’t over. Today they were filming the TV advert. Morgana had Merlin in a similar outfit from the day before and had coiffed his hair back into the desired style. It was supposed to look ‘just fucked’, which amused Merlin no end, as he and Arthur had enjoyed a last minute fuck over the back of the dressing table chair that morning, yet still his hair needed re-arranging into the desired look.

He hoped he wouldn’t have another panic attack in front of the cameras today, but as this was not live he hoped he would survive in one piece. Gwaine was directing the ad, and all Merlin really had to do was stand there. However, the ‘there’ was to be several different places – a windswept beach, a hillside, a festival – which meant green screen, wind machines and goose pimples. Oh, and pouting, lots of. 

He was the only person in the advert; the strategy for marketing the product was to make it as ambiguous as possible so that it would appeal to straight and gay men. Hence there was no clingy woman in an evening dress swooning at his feet.

When the actual perfume finally arrived, Merlin thought it smelled like the Old Spice Uncle Cill favoured, and didn’t spray any on himself – it’s not as though this was for smelly-vision. 

When they took a break from filming in mid afternoon, Merlin managed to grab a few minutes alone with Arthur, looking to the outside world as though they were enjoying an innocent cup of coffee together, whilst Arthur told Merlin in a very matter of fact way what he planned to do to him when they got back to the house.

Merlin couldn’t wait for the day to be over, but he knew that once filming was done they were practicing their pitch. He wasn’t happy about Gwaine’s idea that Merlin should come along in his ‘model’ outfit and represent the brand in person; it was difficult enough trying to play the part of a brooding metro-sexual type for the cameras without having to try and pull it off in person.

Arthur thought it was hilarious, “I wonder what your team would say if they knew I’m the one who’s going to peel that t-shirt off you with my teeth?”

God Merlin wished the day would move quicker! “Well, Morgana probably suspects that something like that might occur, but I think she’s the only one.”

Arthur groaned, “This show is so fucked up. We’re together, Sophia’s got three blokes on the go, Cenred’s hot for you, Gwen’s pining for Lance, Leon’s trying to woo Joe – and this is the stuff we know about. I’ve a feeling our old friend Valiant was blackmailing Mordred as well.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Why else would he not have taken him into the boardroom that time? He was either blackmailing him or threatening him with violence. I doubt we’ll ever find out for sure.”

Merlin sighed, “You had to go and spoil it didn’t you?” He took a long gulp of his coffee, enjoying watching Arthur watching him swallow the liquid. It was a wonder the whole world hadn’t twigged by now; Merlin was only just starting to realise how much Arthur watched him – and how much he liked it. “You couldn’t just let me enjoy the vision of you, me, your teeth, my t-shirt – you had to go and mention Valiant.”

=+=

“Are you sure this is a good idea – I’ve no idea how to ‘look sexy’, particularly not in front of a load of industry experts. Can I not just wear my suit?” Merlin nearly begged Gwaine. 

“Merlin, could you please stop being so negative,” Gwaine huffed as he scribbled notes onto the flip chart, his handwriting a mess due to his cast. “However, I’m a fair man, let’s vote on it. All those who think Merlin should come to tomorrow’s pitch ‘in character’ raise your hands.” Gwaine raised his hand, Morgana patted Merlin on the shoulder and kept her other hand at her side.

Leon, the evil traitor, put his hand up. “Sorry Merlin, I think it’s a good idea – you’ll be standing there, a living and breathing example of our target client, Morgana and I will be giving the pitch – it’ll be fine.”

Merlin felt himself deflate. It had been a long enough day filming the advert and trying to channel Will’s confidence and Arthur’s handsome looks as he did so. He didn’t think he could do it again in front of a live audience.

“Try not to worry Merlin,” Morgana placated. “You look the part; they’ll never know you’re not a real model.”

“Alright, I’ll practice my pout while the rest of you practice the pitch shall I?” he joked, but sat down anyway and read through the product info, committing it to memory in case he got asked any questions tomorrow. He then spent time reading through Gwaine’s research statistics and info on where they thought this product would sit in the market place. Once done, he pretended not to be looking at his watch and wishing the time away; Arthur was no longer observing, and Merlin just wanted this meeting over with. They had been practicing without stopping for dinner, Merlin was full of Kettle Chips and coffee. It was after ten when Gwaine was finally satisfied that the pitch was in the bag, and Merlin could escape upstairs.

Arthur was watching the TV in Merlin’s room wearing his boxers and one of Merlin’s t-shirts that was far too tight for him and just made Merlin want to snuggle him. 

“Well, if it isn’t my very own Charley Speed,” he drawled, pointing the remote at the TV and switching it off.

“Who? Is that a drug cocktail or something?” Merlin frowned, moving across the room and flopping down on the sofa next to Arthur, dropping his head on his shoulder.

“You idiot, he’s a model – like you,” he teased.

Merlin groaned, “Fuck off. That joke is getting old.”

“Aw, is someone in a bad mood?”

“No,” Merlin grumped. “Yes. I don’t know. I’m just dreading tomorrow, that’s all.”

“For what it’s worth, I think you’ll do just fine. In the meantime, I know a way to take your mind off it,” Arthur planted a soft kiss on Merlin’s lips and stood up. “I’m just going to run you a bath.”

Merlin grinned and waved a hand towards the en suite, letting Arthur see his eyes change colour, and said, “No need.”

Arthur stuck his head around the bathroom door, “Christ, Merlin, this magic thing is amazing!”

Merlin shrugged, “You’re taking it all pretty well I have to say.”

“The concept that magic exists isn’t entirely new to me,” he admitted. “When I was a kid one of my nannies used to do tricks to entertain me – puppets that danced by themselves that kind of thing. I convinced myself later that I’d imagined it but I didn’t.”

“What happened to her?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, “She married my father, though it only lasted a couple of years; she had her eye on the main chance all along.”

“I sympathise,” Merlin joked. “I have an eye for the main chance’s son.” Leaving a trail of his clothes he led Arthur into the bathroom and settling himself back into the tub, splashing the water in front of him to indicate Arthur should join him.

Arthur climbed in behind Merlin and pulled him back against his chest. “What first attracted you to me?” Merlin mused and covered Arthur’s hands with his own.

Arthur laughed, “Well I heard you before I really saw your face – although your arse was certainly worth a second – possibly a third or fourth – look.” He continued to chuckle. “You were talking to Ewan and trying to be diplomatic about my Father’s age. Then, you turned around and I – well if I’m honest I don’t know what it was – I just wanted you. Instantly. You then proceeded to call me a thief and I was quite put out that you hadn’t noticed my, er, charms...”

“Oh I noticed,” Merlin confirmed. “If you wanted me, what took you so long?”

“Reality TV isn’t the best basis for any kind of relationship; I kept talking myself out of my attraction to you, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you. By Manchester I couldn’t deny it any longer,” he released Merlin’s hand and began to tickle him. “You got under my skin.”

Merlin was ticklish everywhere. “Stop it!” he gasped, wriggling at Arthur’s attack, water splashing over the sides of the bath. Arthur ignored him, going for the armpits. “Mercy! Mercy!”

“I never show mercy,” Arthur laughed, but stopped anyway and dropped a kiss on Merlin’s shoulder as he struggled to get his breath back. “Idiot.” 

Merlin had been half hard already, but the tickling had finished the job. Arthur closed his fingers around Merlin’s length and stroked slowly as his other hand somehow found its way along the crease of Merlin’s arse. “On second thoughts, I could be persuaded to show mercy to this.”

=+=

“...so we recommend a retail price of £34.99 for a 50ml bottle. We strongly believe that this fragrance...blah, blah, blah,” Morgana said as Merlin zoned back out again. This was torture. He knew he should be paying attention; that his neck would be on the line if they lost because really, what had his contribution to the task been? Yep, standing around ‘looking pretty’ if you could really call someone with his ears ‘pretty’, and a hired model would have done a better job. He’d had nothing creative or strategic to offer this task, and mainly because he had been stressing over his rift with Arthur, and once that was sorted he found he didn’t much care about the task. 

He’d been the whinge-tastic candidate of this episode, when the show aired there would be a whinge-centric montage of him on ‘You’re Fired’. Luckily, when he’d been to do his fillers, he’d perked up and not moaned; he thought that Gwaine was doing a good job, as was the rest of the team – he was just moody because he felt so exposed as the ‘face of the brand’.

“As a young man in the target demographic, would you buy this product?” someone from the panel of industry experts was addressing him, and Merlin’s first thought was, ‘don’t mention that it smells like old men.’

“With my face on the box, how could I resist?” he joked, earning a titter from the panel. “Seriously, I would definitely buy this product; it’s sexy, it’s fresh and the ingredients are all organic so it’s ethical too.” Thank God he’d read the blurb and wasn’t so lost in his own world that he didn’t simply answer them with an honest, ‘I never wear cologne’ whilst wrinkling his nose.

Arthur did wear cologne and Merlin rather liked the smell on him. 

“Are you wearing it now?” another asked, and Merlin’s heart sank because no he most certainly was not. To lie or not to lie?

He lied. “I most certainly am,” he bluffed. “Would you like me to spray some on my wrist so you can smell it on?” When a couple of the executives nodded, Merlin walked over held out his wrist for Morgana to spray and tried not to pull a face at the smell, before walking over to the execs and letting them sniff his skin. 

The questioning moved back to Morgana and Leon and Merlin sighed with relief. He hoped his skills in lying had improved. Will could spot one of his lies effortlessly. He’d stopped bothering most of the time.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, they were being thanked by the industry people and could leave. Merlin was craving coffee like an addict.

Instead he found himself enduring yet another debrief when they arrived back at the house. Gwaine became tetchy when Merlin offered to fetch some drinks; the lack of caffeine just made him want to sleep. To make things worse, Sir Uther was hosting a cocktail party at an exclusive hotel in London that evening, and all of the remaining candidates were expected to attend. This debrief was seriously cutting into Merlin’s nap time.

He thought he was home and dry when the meeting broke up. He estimated he could have three hour snooze, take a shower and then get dressed into the evening suit that had been provided for his use.

He didn’t bargain on Morgana following him to his room and somehow managing to persuade him to do two things to help her, in exchange for one tiny favour which he was sure he could have done with magic anyway.

She would come over before they left and fix his bow tie for him; in exchange he would tell Arthur about her being his sister, and then if Arthur wasn’t totally horrified by the idea, he would bring him to Morgana’s London house tomorrow for him to meet the kids. 

When she wanted to be, Morgana was a very persuasive woman.

=+=

Arthur was in full Pendragon businesslike mode at the cocktail party, spending a short amount of time mingling with the candidates before having to circulate the hundreds of allegedly important guests. Merlin watched him hungrily, fascinated to see him working the room, stopping to greet a never-ending stream of sycophants with his professional hat firmly planted on his head. 

“I’m getting really nervous now,” Morgana confided as she snagged her third glass of champagne off a passing waiter. “Look at him; he’s got the world at his feet. He doesn’t need a long lost sister complicating his life.”

Merlin didn’t mention that he’d been looking at Arthur for most of the evening; well, in between avoiding Cenred, checking that Gwen was holding up OK without Lance, and dropping hints to Joe about Leon. 

Arthur looked their way then, tipping his head slightly at Merlin before turning and making his way slowly to the exit, stopping to say hello to anyone who tried to waylay him on his way past. “Looks like that’s my cue,” he said to Morgana. “I’ll be back soon.”

He followed Arthur out into the jumble of corridors outside of the ballroom in which the event was being held, and found himself bundled through a fire door just out of sight of the main entrance, forcing them out into the warm evening air.

“Art -” Merlin was cut off by Arthur pressing him into the wall and kissing him slowly. “Mmmng.”

Arthur stepped back, raised a hand into the air, and Merlin turned to see a taxi pull up to the kerb. He happily let Arthur encourage him into it. Arthur gave his address and relaxed back against the seat, snagging Merlin’s hand in his, “God I hate those things,” he sighed.

“I wasn’t loving it myself,” Merlin agreed, although the watching Arthur in a new surrounding part had been nice. “But won’t I get in the shit with Ewan for doing a bunk?”

“No, the crew left just before we did, the rest of the night is ours.”

“Oh, well, good – because I really need to tell you something,” Merlin knew he had to tell Arthur about Morgana before they moved on to any bedroom activity. Arthur’s arse was far too distracting.

“Oh,” Arthur let go of Merlin’s hand and scooted to the other side of the taxi. “Is that the same as saying ‘we need to talk’ right before you break up with me?”

Merlin searched Arthur’s face in disbelief, Arthur wouldn’t quite meet his eyes, “No you prat, it means I want to tell you something.” He slid down the seat and reclaimed Arthur’s hand. 

Arthur blushed. Blushed. “Oh – right – well, good.”

Merlin rolled his eyes.

=+=

“Thank you Merlin, I owe you one,” Morgana said as she handed Merlin a much needed cup of coffee and leant back against the kitchen unit to watch as Arthur, flat on his back in the small back garden, was being attacked from both sides by two three year old whirlwinds that were Morgana’s daughters, Florence and Millie. Both the twins were giggling, Arthur was out of breath and belly laughing; his nieces had taken to him instantly.

When Merlin had told Arthur about Morgana the night before, it was clear that Arthur was immediately enthralled to find out he was both a brother and an uncle. He’d insisted on calling Morgana right away, and the two of them had spent nearly an hour on the phone before Arthur promised that he and Merlin would definitely be round the following day.

Merlin felt immensely proud of Arthur. It hadn’t even occurred to him to be jealous that his mother had had another child, or annoyed with Merlin for keeping it a secret from him. The only dilemma now was to tell Sir Uther and somehow extricate herself from the show.

“I still think there would have been a simpler way to do this,” Merlin teased. “You know this is going to be all over the papers when it gets out, right?”

“I know, I never was one for doing things the easy way,” she sighed. “I could say the same for you if you carry on seeing Arthur.”

Merlin groaned.

=+=

“The brief was simple,” Sir Uther stated, dragging his gaze over the remaining candidates. “Create and market a new fragrance. Nothing is ever simple on this show though is it?”

There was an audible gulp. Had the reaction to their campaigns really been that bad?

“Phoenix, talk me through your thought processes in tackling the brief – Sophia?”

Phoenix had gone for a women’s fragrance and aimed it at young teenage girls, and once Sophia had outlined the ideas behind and Sir Uther had questioned the other two team members, they showed the advert. Everyone watched in silence as it played out, and by the time it was done, Merlin was cringing – so was the rest of his team, Arthur, Gaius and Sir Uther. 

The advert had shown a thirteen year old young girl in a very sexualised manner as she tried to capture the attention of a blond school boy hottie. It was highly inappropriate.

The packaging was passed around, bright pink, the perfume named ‘Adore’, and when the perfume was passed along for the board to sniff, all three of them recoiled back.

Sir Uther and Gaius raised eyebrows in sync before the attention was turned to Sorcery, letting Gwaine explain the ideas behind their campaign, showing the advert; Merlin tried not to sink down in his chair at the sight of his own image on the screen. It was a relief to note that no one was cringing when the ad had played out.

Sir Uther looked suitably impressed at their packaging, but less so when he sniffed the scent. “Sorcery, the experts liked your advert and the packaging, and were very satisfied with your pitch,” he began. “They thought using one of the team as a model was a nice touch, and Merlin, they were impressed by your product knowledge. Less impressive was the smell of the product itself.”

The atmosphere grew impossibly tense as Sir Uther turned to the other team, “Phoenix, some of the panel of experts were extremely offended by your advertising campaign. They called it crass, and the overall consensus regarding the packaging is that it’s garish and would not appeal to the target market. To top it off, they said it smelled like the Lion enclosure at the zoo.”

“With this is mind, the choice is an easy one,” he sighed. “Sorcery, I’ve laid on a treat for you at Harrods. You’ll be drinking champagne and enjoying chocolate fondue in the Chocolate Bar whilst enjoying a short acoustic set from Jónsi & Alex.”

Merlin and Leon began to bob excitedly in their seats. This was the best prize ever.

=+=

When Merlin returned to the house later, he and Leon were ever so slightly tipsy on champagne and from the excitement of getting to meet Jónsi & Alex. Morgana was a convert, Gwaine simply looked baffled and stated that they ‘weren’t his thing’.

After letting Morgana almost force-feed him coffee – the flippin’ woman was behaving like he was her long lost younger brother, not Arthur – they waited, all eyes on the door, to see who would be missing when the other team showed up. 

They would then become the final six; and within a few days they would be whittled down to the final two. It was almost over.

Gwaine and Morgana started to argue over who they thought would have been fired – Gwaine was convinced of, and hoping for, Sophia’s demise. Morgana thought it would probably be Gwen.

They were both wrong. Sophia and Gwen returned; Cenred did not.

Apparently for the last couple of months Cenred had managed to hide a drinking problem; however over the last few days he had upped his dosage, and when they had returned to the boardroom and Sophia had pointed out that he had been drunk during most of the task; Cenred had denied it, and then promptly loudly burped.

After that it had all been downhill.

Merlin shuddered - that explained a lot. He just hoped the other man got the help he needed.

=+=

Merlin slept fitfully that night, disturbing images of Arthur running away from an unseen assailant swamping him again when he did manage to nod off. 

He hadn’t spent the evening with Arthur; understanding that he needed some time alone with Morgana. The two of them had gone out for a meal to do some sibling bonding.

When there was an urgent knock at his door in the early hours he used his magic to feel who was there, jerking it open immediately when he sensed Uther Pendragon.

Sir Uther looked him up and down, taking in his half naked and dishevelled appearance before sweeping into the room. Merlin vaguely noted that Sir Uther didn’t look his usual pristine self either.

“Get dressed,” he bit out urgently. “Arthur’s been kidnapped.”

=+=


	12. Week Eleven

Week 11

Merlin’s world tilted at Sir Uther’s words. Arthur had been kidnapped? Kidnapped? Had he fallen asleep again? He’d been dreaming about Arthur running away from something or someone lately but he’d put the nightmares down to his own insecurities about Arthur’s feelings for him.

“He’s – oh my God, what -? When?” Arthur was supposed to spend the evening with Morgana. Merlin had fallen asleep from exhaustion earlier and didn’t know if he’d had any texts or missed calls; he kept his phone on silent when he slept.

Uther reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his BlackBerry, tapped a couple of buttons and held it up for Merlin to hear a recording. “We have your son. Five million pounds in unmarked notes by noon or we shoot him in the back of the head and dump his body in the Thames. No police. We will make contact with details of the drop.” The voice was a heavily synthesised and Darth Vader-esque.

“This is my private number,” Sir Uther gritted out. “Only Arthur and a few trusted friends have this. I was in the shower when the message came through. He called back to make sure I’d gotten the point.”

No, no, no, no, no – Arthur. A vision of Arthur, cold and lifeless flashed before Merlin’s stricken eyes and the room began to shake, mirrors cracking, his books and toiletries crashing to the floor around them. Someone had Arthur. Someone had taken Arthur. Merlin was going to find that person and make them regret they had ever been born, he was going to -

Sir Uther stumbled, steadying himself on the door jamb. “What the -?”

“Sorry,” Merlin mumbled, desperately pulling his magic back inside of himself; now wasn’t the time to be breaking down; Arthur needed him. He waved a hand – in for a penny. The broken and fallen items immediately righted themselves. “No time to explain now. I’ll get dressed.”

Sir Uther looked surprised at Merlin’s display of magic, but not shocked. Merlin recalled Arthur telling him about his father’s magical wife. He’d seen real magic before.

He grabbed some random clothing off the pile draped over the chair and headed for the bathroom, pausing as he reached the door and turning back to Uther, “Why come to me?”

Uther gave a bitter laugh, “I’m not blind, son: I’ve seen the way you look at each other.”

“That obvious, are we?” Merlin said quietly.

“That, and I know he took you to his house in Somerset. Arthur’s never taken anyone there; it’s his sanctuary. It tells me all I need to know about his feelings for you.”

“Oh,” Merlin said again. “So you think I can help find him? How do you know I’m not behind the whole plot?” Oh for fuck’s sake, shut up and get dressed! “I’m not – obviously,” he swiftly added, apologetically, feeling a whole new respect for Uther Pendragon as he saw other older man’s clear love for his son in every word he spoke and every shaky move he made.

“That had crossed my mind,” Sir Uther admitted. “However I pride myself on being a good judge of character. You love him; a fool could see it. You’re more likely to know his movements that anyone else and I hadn’t really thought much beyond that – I can’t call the police – I can’t risk it.”

Merlin wasn’t sure what to make of that, Uther thinking he might have taken Arthur, even if only for a moment, but could he blame Uther for being suspicious? This was his only son.

He turned quickly and retreated, getting dressed in record time, dragging his mind over what he knew of Arthur’s last movements – he’d been for dinner with Morgana and... Merlin’s heart turned cold. She couldn’t be behind this - could she? He’d trusted her. What if this was some sick misguided revenge plot against Uther for the circumstances of her birth, or against Arthur for not being rejected by Ygraine? What if the whole long lost sister thing was just a bullshit excuse to get to Arthur?

No, no – Merlin’s instincts had been wary of her, but he’d never once felt her to be a threat. Morgana had taken them both to her home, to meet her kids – no, his instincts were telling him that she’d had nothing to do with this. Nevertheless, to be sure, he pushed out with his magic, trying to locate her and finding her sleeping in her room down the hall; completely contented. No; it wasn’t her.

He walked out the bathroom to find a pacing Uther, and said carefully, “So, who else knows about this so far?” as he hunted around for his shoes. Words kept repeating on a loop in his head, be logical, don’t lose it. The magic thrumming in his veins wanted more; it was a struggle for him to control it.

Anxious blue eyes turned to him then, “Gaius, my head of security Percival Jones and you.”

“So you think I can help find him?” Merlin suspected that his magic was the key. “Are you sure about the police?”

“I can’t risk the police yet and we can’t let this get out, you’re the one who’s spent most time with him lately, and as I’m convinced you’re not behind this...” Uther’s face crumpled, his voice cracking as he said, “This is my worst nightmare; someone has taken my boy. Who would do this?”

Who indeed? “Where are we going?” Merlin asked, grabbing his coat, ready to go.

“My town house,” he replied, and Merlin couldn’t look at him, because the emotion on the face of Uther Pendragon at that very moment could be his undoing. 

=+=

Once in the car Merlin remembered to check his phone and he too had a voicemail from Arthur. He immediately played it over speakerphone for Uther’s ears as well, “Merlin, hey, just calling to see if you’re up – call me if you are, if not see you tomorrow. I lo – Umphh!” This was followed by a clattering sound that must have been Arthur’s phone falling to the floor, then a dragging noise, car doors opening and closing, and screeching tyres.

Merlin felt the blood leaving his face; Uther held a similar pallor. “Oh God, what have they done to him?” Merlin forced out. God, he had to think – how were they going to get Arthur back if they couldn’t get their hands on the money? It was about 4.30am now; Merlin wasn’t going to sit around waiting for something to happen. Think.

What about what he’d just done to locate Morgana? What if-? Merlin knew this was an ability linked not specifically to Arthur because he had just managed it with someone else, but would it work at a distance?

He’d been able to sense Arthur’s whereabouts the other day in the house and could pick out his mood, what if the range could be widened? He’d never tried so he didn’t know. He sat back against the head rest in the car, Uther driving beside him, and closing his eyes, reached out to Arthur. If this didn’t work then what did they have? Uther was had said Gaius was trying to work out how to get their hands on £5,000,000 in unmarked notes in the time given. Uther was a billionaire, but it would take some real string-pulling to get that money by noon.

Arthur was faint, but Merlin could feel him. 

“Can we stop the car?” he asked urgently, and waited until Uther heeded his request and pulled over into a pub car park. “I’m gonna try magic,” he offered Uther by way of an explanation for his actions. Merlin reached out again.

“He’s unconscious,” he gasped, feeling the darkness around Arthur. “I – I think he’s in the boot of a car.”

Arthur’s energy signature was difficult to pin down, but Merlin managed it, his desperation to find his love pushing him to the limit of his abilities. 

“The car’s moving,” he realised out loud. Once he’d realised that he could maybe find out who was driving the car. Oh God, he should have known. Any vague suspicion about Cenred kidnapping Arthur in a jealous rage went out of the window. “Valiant.”

Uther swore. “Is Arthur OK, can you tell?” he asked desperately.

“He’s alive, is all I can say. If he wasn’t I wouldn’t be able to feel him, I don’t think,” Merlin was tentatively feeling his way through this new ability. “If he was awake, I’d know more.” 

Uther was still pale as Merlin turned to him, “I think I can track him.” He’d go and flag down a taxi and go by himself if Uther didn’t believe him. “The link between us, now I’ve found it, I can feel it getting stronger – you have to believe me – we have to drive south; try next left.”

Merlin had to give Uther credit. He wasn’t wasting time arguing over the realities of magic being real, and Merlin had to give silent thanks to his ex wife because most people, if unfamiliar with magic, would be very sceptical of Merlin’s certainty here. He seemed to trust that Merlin knew what he was talking about and could find Arthur.

Hope burgeoned inside him; if they could just find where they were, Merlin could use his powers to stop Valiant and any accomplices. He had no doubt whatsoever of that.

Merlin pushed out again, trying to find Valiant’s mind, see if he could get anything from him as to where he was with Arthur. 

What a fucking cliché. He could see what Valiant was seeing, and felt the jolt as he pulled over his car. He was looking at some old abandoned warehouses; Val obviously watched too many cop shows. “I can see where they are,” Merlin said. “Does Camelot Fashions mean anything to you?”

If Merlin had done his research correctly then Uther’s company used to be called Camelot. Uther had changed the name in the later eighties to Pendragon Plc. 

Uther broke hard and did a U-turn. “I know exactly where that is.”

 

Merlin would have been amused by Uther’s driving like Gene Hunt in his Audi Quatro if it weren’t for the fact that Arthur’s life were at stake, his Arthur, and that time was of the essence, and – oh God – Arthur was fucking unconscious in the boot of a bloody car. For fucks sake! This was real, this wasn’t a TV cop show, this was actually happening. What the heck were they going to do when they got there? Merlin Emrys and Uther Pendragon, the world’s unlikeliest crime fighting duo. Jeez, Merlin hoped one day they could look back at this and laugh about the two of them screeching around the streets in Uther’s BMW.

“Stop!” he shouted after several minutes of tense silence as they hurtled through the London street, breaking speed limits and praying not to get pulled over. He sensed they were almost there, that the car, Valiant and Arthur, were almost within reach. “I think they’re round that corner.” He nodded ahead, but Uther was already climbing out of the car.

Merlin followed, hurrying after Uther who had developed a speed to rival Linford Christie. “Uther!” he hissed. “We can’t just -”

Uther ignored him and rounded the corner. Merlin had no choice but to follow.

Valiant was standing in front of a huge black American style 4x4, his back to them, poring over a map that he had placed on the bonnet. At the sound of approaching footsteps, he turned around and sneered.

“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you,” he snarled, surprise evident on his face at being discovered. “One step and I’ll detonate the bomb and you’ll never find all the pieces of your precious son’s body.”

“You touch him and -”

“Oh, and I see you’ve brought Merlin, how sweet, like a proper family outing,” Valiant mocked. “Come to terms with the fact that your son is a poof, have you?”

“- you -” spluttered Uther, frozen to the spot.

Merlin could sense Valiant’s confidence that this was something he could still win. “Where’s Arthur?” he demanded, even though he knew full well he was in the boot of the car. He also knew damned well there was no fucking bomb; in his haste to appear like a badass, Valiant had forgotten his original threats had been about a gun; he’d said he would shoot Arthur in the back of the head.

Merlin wanted to snap his neck in two.

“Somewhere you’ll never find him - unless Sir Uther here hands over my five million - wired up to a load of semtex,” bluffed Valiant. 

“I’ll kill you!” Uther lurched forwards, and Merlin knew he had to react, for although he knew Arthur wasn’t in an abandoned building somewhere strapped up to a bomb, he couldn’t take the risk that Valiant didn’t have the gun. 

He waved his hand and Valiant flew through the air, crashing back against the neglected gloomy facade that had once housed Camelot Fashions. For the second time since he’d had the misfortune to know Valiant, Merlin heard his head crack painfully against a solid surface, and watched as the red faced kidnapper slid unconscious to the floor.

“Call the police!” he shouted back at Uther, already on his way round the back of the car – a Ford Bronco – and wrenching open the boot with his magic.

Oh thank fuck. Arthur was inside, hands and feet bound, still unconscious but breathing. No semtex, just dishevelled clothing and rumpled hair and – oh God – breathing.

“He’s OK,” he called over to Uther who had the phone pressed to his ear, a fearful look on his face as he approached, as if afraid of what he might find. Merlin felt a twinge of – dare he admit? – fondness for the man because no one could argue that he didn’t love his son. “Get an ambulance as well.”

He stared down at Arthur, leaning in to brush the sticky hair off his forehead, “Arthur,” he said softly. He began to untie Arthur’s hands, Uther joining him and untying his feet.

“Merlin?” Arthur stirred, his eyes opening and fixing straight on Merlin’s, dazed but the love there was clear. 

“You’re alright; we’ve got you,” Merlin said softly, helping Arthur to sit up. “I was never going to let anything happen to you.”

=+=

The hospital wanted Arthur to stay in for observation after checking him over, even though he’d been pronounced well. Merlin and Uther hovered in his private room (only the best for a Pendragon) and Merlin bustled him into the shower, straight into pyjama bottoms and to bed. He was reluctant to leave him, even for five minutes, but there was an inevitable awkward conversation to be had with Uther.

“Thank you,” Uther said when Merlin closed Arthur’s room door behind them both, quickly scanning the corridor for eavesdroppers. “You saved my boy’s life.”

“We don’t know that Valiant would have hurt him,” Merlin answered, hating being made a hero.

“I had no way of getting my hands on five million cash in unmarked notes in the timescale, and I think we both know our friend Valiant is the unpredictable sort.” 

Merlin nodded, not wanting to think what could have happened to Arthur. Right now he wanted nothing more than to climb into bed beside him and wrap himself around him, keep him safe. 

“You understand, of course, that what happened today must stay between us? It’s inevitable that the kidnapping will come out in the autumn when the show airs, but until then-?” Uther looked apologetic that he was saying this at all.

Morgana flashed into Merlin’s head, but he shoved her back out again, she was Arthur’s secret to tell his father, not his. “I understand, Sir,” he said instead.

“Right,” Uther said, and there was an awkward pause as he seemed to be about to say something else but changed his mind. “I’ll be going then; it’s you he needs tonight. Look after him, won’t you?”

As if Merlin needed asking. “Yes sir.”

He saw Uther to the lift before returning to Arthur’s room and jumping guiltily into the shower before giving in and crawling onto the single bed beside Arthur. He propped his head up with his hand and watched Arthur as he lay sleeping on his side, facing Merlin. His blond lashes fanned his cheeks, his soft hair was tousled. He looked so young, vulnerable and to Merlin, as ever, sexy as hell.

Merlin’s heart swelled with longing as he tamped down the anger that still coursed through him towards Valiant and the thought that anything could have happened to Arthur.

He had worried that the police would find their story didn’t add up, but whatever influence Uther had with the Met held fast, and no awkward questions were asked. Valiant wouldn’t only have broken bones to deal with; Merlin was going to make sure he had a non-stop succession of ailments to make the rest of his life a living hell.

“Merlin?” mumbled Arthur, opening his eyes and catching Merlin staring shamelessly at him.

“I’m here, go back to sleep,” Merlin whispered and leaned over to place a kiss on Arthur’s cheek. 

“OK,” Arthur snuggled into Merlin and closed his eyes again, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him in tighter. “Love you.”

Merlin waited until Arthur was asleep again before allowing himself to try and doze, but he couldn’t sleep, images of Arthur being shot, blown up or otherwise maimed flashing before his eyes when he closed them. He tried to tell himself that Arthur was safe now, he was here, in his arms, but he couldn’t help the panic that overtook him at the thought of ever losing Arthur. 

=+=

After getting about three hours of sleep Arthur had awakened. He insisted on getting out of bed and making use of the almost hotel like facilities of the hotel room before they sat at the little table in the corner and Arthur talked Merlin through how Valiant had jumped him after he’d dropped Morgana back home, and knocked him out with chloroform or something like that. 

Arthur had woken once and found himself bound in a car boot; but when he’d called out, Valiant had come for him and knocked him out again. He’d been afraid, but because he’d only really been aware of being taken and those few minutes of hell trapped in the car boot before wakening again to find Merlin had found him, he didn’t freak out. He wanted to put it behind him and get on with it.

Merlin wasn’t sure if this was just a brave face for his sake, but he didn’t push it.

“You scared the shit out of me,” Merlin confessed, staring morosely at his hands. “What if Uther hadn’t come to me? What if Valiant had already killed you? What -”

“Merlin?”

“Arthur?”

“Shut up,” he curved a hand around the back of Merlin’s neck and brought him forward for a kiss. “Hmmm, on second thoughts, I think I might need you to help me take my mind off the trauma.”

Merlin couldn’t shake his anger; even though he knew it wasn’t directed at Arthur, but at Valiant, he felt so powerless, his mind swamped with ‘what if’ scenarios. He let Arthur pull him to his feet, before snapping and kissing Arthur as though this were their last kiss, as though he might never see him again. He let his tongue explore Arthur’s mouth, his hand winding into Arthur’s hair, the pressing forward under his pyjama top, lifting it over his head, pushing him down onto the nearby sofa and straddling him.

He wanted Arthur inside him, living proof that everything was OK, that Arthur was alive and breathing and here beneath him, that nothing or no one could ever take Arthur away from him again. His need to prove that, his need to feel was immediately overwhelming, and he took control, Arthur letting him, freeing Arthur’s cock from the confines of his drawstring bottoms, curling his hand around the eager length, stroking it into readiness as he somehow shimmied out of his own jeans, throwing his shirt onto the floor and letting Arthur use his fingers inside of him, revelling in the feel of them there as he went back to kissing Arthur, swirling his tongue against the room of Arthur’s mouth, biting his lip with his teeth, reassuring himself that Arthur was real, safe and alive. 

There was something really erotic about being naked on top of a semi clad Arthur, lowering himself down slowly into his erection, feeling the loss of his kiss even as Arthur filled him. He leant back, meeting Arthur’s gaze, little kicks in his belly at Arthur biting down on his own lip, his eyes sweeping over Merlin and saying, “God Merlin, you’re amazing,” and thrusting up into him, jolting Merlin’s entire body and spurring him into action. 

Merlin loved the feeling of being the one in control, of resting his hands on Arthur’s shoulders as though holding him in place, of riding him wildly, the slowly building slowly melting through them, the heat in Arthur’s eyes, burning for him heightening his arousal as his cock caused friction against Arthur’s tanned chest. 

Arthur tightened his hands on Merlin’s buttocks, throwing his head back and groaning Merlin’s name as he released himself inside of him. Merlin captured his lips with his and came, a hot sticky mess welding them together as Merlin rode out their orgasms and collapsed in an exhausted heap against Arthur.

“I was so scared,” he whispered. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Never,” Arthur said into Merlin’s neck. “You’re stuck with me.”

=+= 

Merlin felt all tensed up, his nerves totally frayed. This was worse than any of the previous tasks; somehow those had been less stressful because it had been a team effort. This was all him; if he fucked this up there was no one to pin it on.   
Morgana was looking bored, and Merlin knew it was because she had no intention of being in the final. She’d done what she came to do, she’d found her baby brother. Arthur was telling Uther about her tonight. Having spent some time with Uther – albeit under extreme stress when Arthur was kidnapped – Merlin had a feeling that he would probably welcome Morgana as part of his family, particularly as she was successful and self sufficient in her own right – no obvious hidden agenda or eyes on the Pendragon fortune.

The atmosphere as they waited for the first three of them to be called in for interviews was a kind of tense energy. 

There were three interviewers with twenty minutes with each candidate. 

No one was talking. Gwaine clearly desperately wanted to get up and pace but was trying to keep his cool, his left leg jerking as he tried to control the urge. Sophia was adjusting the straps of her ridiculously high shoes for the fourteenth time, prior to that she had been twirling her long hair around her red tipped false nails. 

Gwen has literally turned green and Leon wasn’t far off with a shade of puce. This was it for all of them; after these interviews, only two candidates would remain. The chosen two would then return to their ‘normal’ lives until the final, which in contrast to the show in previous years, would take place only a week before it aired, and then Sir Uther would choose his winner ‘live’ on the Wednesday before Christmas, with just a short time delay to allow for anyone swearing or ‘doing a Valiant’ or using the c-word in front of millions of viewers.

In the intervening weeks, each fired candidate would appear in an episode of ‘You’re Fired’ to correspond with the week they had been given the boot. Those episodes would be filmed the afternoon before the show aired to minimise any press leaks.

Merlin wondered what would happen in Valiant’s week seeing as he was currently languishing at Her Majesty’s Pleasure with no sign of bail. He curled his fingers into his palms to stop himself losing control, as thoughts of Valiant were wont to make him want to do.

For the four of them who were fired today, it would be an extra long episode of ‘You’re Fired’ with a ten minute slot for each of them. Merlin was sure he would be in that show; in fact he was utterly certain. That didn’t mean he wouldn’t do his best today, he’d come this far, he wanted to go out with as much of a bang as he could manage without using magic. 

God, the waiting was doing his head in. He checked his watch: three minutes had passed since he’d last checked. He wondered what Arthur was doing. He’d been released from hospital, Merlin and Uther had both made sure he was safely home and fed. Uther had insisted he take at least a fortnight off work if not more. 

Arthur had protested that he was needed for filming the next boardroom; Uther had concurred and agreed that Arthur should make an appearance there and then continue his time off. Merlin was secretly impressed with the older man’s determination that Arthur should get his rest. The kidnapping had knocked him for six; the realisation that he could have lost his son a harsh burden.

Sir Uther had reluctantly left Arthur in Merlin’s care, and once they were alone, Arthur gently prompted Merlin that he thought it was time he told him about his past, and Merlin did. Arthur simply pulled him close and vowed that if he ever saw Edwin he’d rue the day he so much as looked at Merlin.

It was what Merlin had needed to hear.

The next boardroom was tomorrow morning, and tonight Sir Uther had laid on a special meal at Claridge’s for the remaining candidates, so Merlin couldn’t spend the evening with Arthur as he would like. It was a shame as it was probably going to be his last night in London as he would most likely be fired the following day and returning to Malvern. Arthur was spending the evening with Uther anyway, so dinner at Claridge’s would hopefully be distracting enough for him to not pine.

Still, Uther’s decree that Arthur should take time off couldn’t be better timed; Merlin had every intention of showing Arthur the sights of Worcestershire by day and keeping him warm at night whilst he ‘recuperated’. Just because Arthur claimed he was OK after the kidnapping didn’t mean Merlin was going to take his eyes off him unless he really had to; physically he was fine, but mentally – well, Merlin wasn’t sure.

“Leon Castle, Morgana LeFay and Gwen Degrace please come with me,” announced a weasel-faced man appearing in the doorway of the waiting area they were currently in. Merlin watched as the three stood and followed the man into the corridor beyond.

“For fuck’s sake,” Sophia snarled. “This is so not fair.”

Merlin clamped his lips shut and ignored her.

=+=

Merlin’s first interview was with Catrina Jones, a fierce looking lady with what seemed like far too many teeth. When Leon had come back from his interview with her, muttering under his breath about a scary woman, Merlin had been worried, but he didn’t understand what Leon meant – yes the woman was kind of fierce, but she seemed to take a liking to Merlin, and not one of the things she asked him was accusatory of picking out his faults. 

He did wonder if they tried to lure candidates into a false sense of security before unleashing the badd ass interviewers, but then there were absolutely no holes in his CV, he hadn’t so much as included one white lie. He was a fan of the show and he’d seen candidates in previous years get caught out by their own bullshit every year. Others may not learn from that, but Merlin had.

That theory held when he met Aredian Fynder for his second interview, who picked at every comment and claim of success in Merlin’s application form, trying to catch him in a lie. Merlin’s photographic memory helped too, he could remember every word on his CV, every full stop. So whilst the interview was thoroughly unpleasant, he believed he sold himself as well as he could’ve given the circumstances. 

Nevertheless, those twenty minutes were among the most uncomfortable of the whole competition.

Finally he had his last interview with Hengist Wildren, a red face angry looking man who didn’t just talk, he shouted everything. He also spat quite a lot as he spoke and it was all Merlin could do not to either recoil in disgust or cast some kind of spell to keep the spittle away from his face. The man implied that Merlin was unworthy somehow because he did not have a degree, despite Merlin’s qualifications being at least equivalent and had been done whilst working as a wedding photographer, setting up his own business and through the Edwin slump. Merlin had to tamp down his desire to blow things up as Hengist tried to belittle him, and struggled to argue back because it was difficult to get a word in. 

In the back of his mind he knew that these interviews were deliberately awkward to see how the candidates coped under that kind of pressure; and he’d seen the interviews on previous shows and known they pulled candidates to pieces. He just hadn’t realised how awful it would be to be the person on the other end of it, unable to escape, cameras in his face, his heart pounding and his magic thrumming.

He mentally added that twenty minutes to those spent with Aredian and hoped to draw a line under the whole thing. At least he could say he had tried his best, and if that wasn’t good enough; then, well – he could live with it, because he’d done it – he’d proven to Will that he wasn’t a coward, he’d made through to the eleventh week without any major fuck ups at his own hand. He hadn’t given in to bitching about others –Valiant didn’t count, right? – and better still, he hadn’t used magic to do it.

A few boils and urinary problems bestowed upon the annoying folk hadn’t affected the outcome of the show, but it had made him feel a small sense of justice. 

When they were all finished and the cars were waiting to collect them, Merlin was longing for a bath and a beer...which he did have time for before they went out that night, but he really wanted to follow the beer up with kissing Arthur senseless.

“That was hideous,” groaned Leon when they were in the car on the way back to the house. “I nearly punched that Hengist chap.”

“Me too,” Merlin agreed, meaning ‘nearly blew his balls off’ but the sentiment was the same. He had his arm around Gwen who was quietly sobbing after her last interview with Aredian had left her feeling woefully inadequate. 

He wondered how Morgana was; she’d been going through the motions, but Merlin knew she was worried about the outcome later with Arthur and Uther. Not that Merlin would ask her in front of the others, and right now she was in the other car with Gwaine and Sophia.

“I just can’t believe the audacity of him suggesting I faked my degree; I’m a bloody architect – you can’t fake that!” Leon was an industrial architect – he was the one who designed the structure of the building to make sure it wouldn’t blow over or collapse during a tremor. It was the less glamorous little brother of the type of architect everyone assumes when a person says that’s what they do for a living. “Ignorant twat.”

“He told me I was a jumped up chav with delusions of grandeur!” Gwen sniffed. “Snobby wanker.”

Fuck it. Merlin had been resisting the temptation because Uther now knew about his magic and it was pushing it, but called Gwen a chav was the last straw. Using his new found abilities he reached out and found Hengist, getting into a car to head home or back to his office. Merlin knew he wasn’t seeing Sir Uther until the morning. All the tyres on his car mysteriously deflated and the key snapped off in the ignition.

That would do for starters. He gave Gwen’s shoulder a squeeze and said, “Don’t worry, what goes around comes around.”

=+=

The following morning Ewan came for Merlin as he was eating his breakfast and said that Sir Uther wanted to see him before the boardroom; Morgana too. 

Merlin had received a text from Arthur the night before simply saying that his father hadn’t known that Arthur had a long lost sister, Ygraine had taken that secret to her grave, but he was pleased to welcome Morgana and her children as Arthur’s family. Morgana had the same text and had visibly relaxed, bursting with energy again as they had enjoyed their meal.

Now they were both being summoned to Sir Uther’s office. “Come in,” he greeted pleasantly as Merlin tentatively knocked on his door after his PA said it was OK for them to go in – the same weasel faced man from the previous day. “Merlin, Morgana – please take a seat.”

Arthur had obviously explained that Merlin knew about Morgana as well.

“Morgana, Arthur has told me who you are – and there are things we need to discuss about that at a later date – things about Ygraine and so forth. Arthur is happy to have found you, as am I. I only wish you had made contact in a more conventional way; you’ve put me in an untenable position.”

Morgana nodded, “I apologise Sir, I know now that you are right – but I wanted him to get to know me a little first – I didn’t think things through. It has always been my intention to leave the show when I told him; it just turned out to be later than I planned.” She shot a brief smile at Merlin. “I don’t need to win this contest; I never did. I – well – I’m hoping you will merely fire me today?”

“I see,” Uther sat back in his leather chair and steepled his fingers, observing Morgana from over the top. “No – I don’t think that will work with you. I think it would be simpler if you withdrew from the show, so that when this comes out it we can be honest about it. If we go on and then I fire you, that opens up a whole new can of worms. Obviously, we’ll keep this under wraps until the show airs, do some footage of you talking about why you joined the show? If you feel comfortable with that?”

“I don’t know... No, no, you’re right; anything else wouldn’t work. It would be the truth after all. I’ve got nothing else to hide.”

Sir Uther’s expression was respectful, “Thank you Morgana. Obviously, the other candidates needn’t hear about this; with the obvious exception of Merlin here.”

Morgana nodded, and then the attention was on Merlin. He felt himself sink lower in his seat as Sir Uther’s powerful blue gaze landed on him. This man knew too much about him; knew he was magical, knew he was fucking his son. He swallowed nervously and waited.

“We have another problem altogether with you, Merlin,” he said almost kindly. “Arthur’s struggled for years to tell me the truth about his sexuality, let me almost force him into marrying poor Georgia Alexander, and then he eventually lets it all out and confesses over a phone call when he’s in Manchester! All those chances he had to tell me over the years and he does it over the phone! Because of you.”

Merlin’s reluctant mind flashed back to a rather drunk Arthur breaking into his hotel room to apologise for being an arse to him; he’d been upset following a phone call with his father. “Did he say that?” he squeaked, having trouble locating his voice.

“He didn’t need to; I know my son and once he’d confessed his sexuality to me and I’d calmed down – I was furious that he had lied to me for so long - I began to notice how he behaved around you.”

Merlin wondered who else had felt the tension between them or noticed the lingering looks.

“Then there were Valiant’s thinly disguised barbs; and Arthur punching Cenred. Cenred had been much less subtle in his regard for you than Arthur had.”

Merlin cringed but didn’t say anything; the old man was on a roll.

Uther sighed. “The thing is Merlin; I like you – and I’ll tell you now – based on your performances in the tasks and your interviews yesterday – a place in the final could be yours. Nothing to do with you saving Arthur’s life or your...other abilities,” he coughed then, probably remembering Morgana was still in the room. “The thing is – it’s either a place in the final or Arthur, because, son, you can’t have both.”

Merlin gasped and felt Morgana slip her hand into his as his head reeled. 

He knew Sir Uther was right, Morgana had alluded to this a few days before, and he’d been keeping this little niggle in the back of this head since he’d realised Arthur saw their relationship as more than sex; since Arthur had told him he’d loved him – though if he was honest, it had been there, like the elephant in the room, since their first kiss. 

He couldn’t win this competition and have a public relationship with Arthur.

=+=

Five candidates lined up in the boardroom; Morgana had ‘quit’ already, causing surprised murmurs – and pleased ones – that was one more competitor out of the way.

Merlin couldn’t look at Arthur, knowing what had occurred an hour earlier in his father’s office. 

Sir Uther had been giving them each their feedback on their performance in the interviews, giving both praise and criticism to all, back it up with a synopsis of each of their performances over the preceding weeks. 

This was it now; this was their last chance to give a little spiel about themselves and hope it swayed Sir Uther. Merlin knew now this was for effect – the decision had already been made – after all, Sir Uther had told him he was through already.

Merlin knew he’d made the right decision.

“Gwen, you’ve got a lot to offer, but I feel there are other candidates with more of the qualities that I am looking for, so – with regret – you’re fired,” the finger pointed at Gwen, who nodded humbly, thanked the panel and left quietly.

Then there were four.

“Sophia, you’ve done well to get this far, but I feel your attitude self serving, you don’t play well in a team and are too fond of pointing the finger at others, and I don’t like that in my employees, so – Sophia – I know you’ll go far whatever you do – you’re fired.”

As Sophia gave her thanks, Merlin looked nervously at his hands folded in his lap.

Then there were three; Leon, Gwaine and himself.

Merlin forced himself not to look at Arthur as Sir Uther moved on to the next firing. If he did he would be done for. He wouldn’t be able to stop his reaction, which in front of the cameras at this stage – in front of the others would be bad.

“...I’m sorry to say, Merlin – you’re fired.”

Fired. He was fired. He could have been in the final two instead of Gwaine or Leon, but he’d been fired. He offered his sincere thanks, a small smile for Sir Uther, his heartfelt congratulations to Leon and Gwaine, and left the room to join Gwen and Sophia in the reception.

He had chosen Arthur over the competition. It had been the easiest decision he’d ever made, and even if Arthur changed his mind about keeping Merlin around tomorrow, he knew he had still made the right choice. 

If Arthur was the person Merlin thought he was, then Merlin had nothing to worry about; the ghost of Edwin was dead.

=+=

Merlin and the rest of the fired candidates went back to the house to pack their cases for real. Gwen had already called Lance and was heading straight over to his place once she left London. Sophia was clearly gutted to be fired, pouting and bemoaning Sir Uther’s choice all the way back to the house in the car. Apparently, Sir Uther would regret not picking her, she would ‘show him’.

Merlin should be on the next train to Worcester.

He hugged both Gwen and Sophia goodbye, knowing he would be staying in touch with Gwen and Lance, and maybe seeing them again for the show’s final where some candidates would be returning to help the winners to victory; and also he and Gwen would be on the same episode of ‘You’re Fired’.

Merlin should be on the next train to Worcester; instead, he got a taxi over to Arthur’s and let himself in with magic.

He made himself comfortable in Arthur’s living room and flipped on the TV and settled back to enjoy ‘Bargain Hunt’. After five minutes he had nodded off, the events of the day taking its toll on him.

He awoke when the door slammed as it admitted Arthur into the room, followed by him noisily throwing his keys on the table; he hadn’t noticed Merlin yet, stomping over and flipping off the TV with an exasperated sigh, as though he thought he had left it on in the first place.

“Are you OK?” Merlin asked, opening one eye and attempting to sit up.

“Merlin! Jesus, what are you doing here?” he raked a hand through his hair and glared at Merlin.

Merlin’s confidence evaporated at Arthur’s tone.

“I just – wanted to see you,” Merlin muttered and stumbled to his feet. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve got a train to be on anyway.”

“So – you’re going home?”

“That’s the – er – plan, yes.” New plan based on Arthur’s current behaviour. The original plan had been to stay here with Arthur for the night and then take him back to Worcestershire, but right now Arthur was sounding like he didn’t want Merlin around and -

Then it slid into place; Arthur’s insecurities where Merlin was concerned. Merlin fought back a smile.

“Merlin, I’m sorry you got fired,” Arthur bit out. “I know how much it meant to you, but -”

“But?” Merlin tried, watching Arthur carefully through narrowed eyes.

Arthur’s shoulders sagged and he turned to the window, “I fucked it up for you didn’t I? I should’ve kept my hands to myself.”

“So that’s what this is about? You feel guilty.”

Arthur nodded but didn’t turn round. 

Merlin edged up behind him, wrapped his arms around his waist and propped his chin on Arthur’s shoulder. “You clotpole,” he teased gently, letting his breath ghost over Arthur’s earlobe. 

Arthur shivered and turned around in Merlin’s embrace. “You don’t mind that you didn’t go through?”

Merlin grinned and shook his head. “You know your father gave me the choice? I chose you.”

Arthur’s eyes widened in surprise, “I didn’t know.” He dropped his head forward to rest on Merlin’s forehead. “You chose me..?”

Merlin nodded, “Mmmhmm.”

Arthur’s lips were on his then, demanding entrance, his hands grabbing hold of Merlin’s arse and pulling him closer, “You chose me,” he repeated as he somehow lifted Merlin off his feet, forcing Merlin to wrap his legs around Arthur’s waist. “You’re mine.”

God yes, was he ever.

Now they just had to wait for the show to air, and face the inevitable press backlash when their relationship became public knowledge. 

=+=


	13. Week Twelve

Week 12 – The Final

Merlin had come to realise that long distance relationships totally sucked. He was living in Worcestershire; Arthur was in London and working long hours setting up a new branch of the company for his father. Merlin had had to jump back into his own business with both feet after so long away; and so far the only good thing he could say about his face currently being on TV once a week, and speculation appearing about his private life in the tabloids as though he was a celebrity, was that business had picked up. People were coming in and buying from his gallery because they’d seen him on the show. They were stopping him in the street asking him about the show, and he had to keep quiet, as in was in the show’s contract, he wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone other than close family – in his case, Will – about the show’s outcome until his ‘you’re fired’ moment aired, and then he could talk about anything that had happened up to that date, but not anything about the final. 

He and Arthur, when they did find time together, couldn’t go out in public. Merlin tended to go to London on the weekends because it was easier to blend in there, he’d shove a beanie on and if he was feeling particularly anti-social, he’d wear shades as well. Now that they were apart during the week, and occasionally longer because Arthur had to go abroad, being unable to go out in public together didn’t seem to matter because, well, after any length of time apart, all they wanted to do was curl into each other.

It was plain old exhausting though, going to London most weekends and working long hours in the week. Train carriages and travel fatigue became Merlin’s new best friends. 

Back at the end of August, after the kidnapping and Merlin’s firing, Arthur had heeded his father’s insistence that he take time off work by saying he would take two weeks’ holiday; Merlin had taken him home with him, and they had spent a week in Malvern in Merlin and Will’s flat. Merlin had taken a great pleasure in showing Arthur the sights; they went for walks on the hills, shopping in Worcester, and spent an inordinate amount of time in bed – much to Will’s amusement. 

Arthur and Will developed an instant banter of mutual light-hearted insults and one-upmanship which culminated in a night in the pub with both of them trying to drink each other under the table. Will had won; Arthur had nursed a hangover for the whole of the following day.

After that, Arthur had suggested they spent another week in his place in Somerset, and Merlin had agreed instantly – he still had a temporary manager running his business at that point, so dropping everything was easy when he hadn’t really picked it up since returning from London. All he had done since filming ended was take Arthur to his workshop and gallery to give him the tour.

The time came for Arthur to return to work and it had been a shock to the system when Arthur had declared that he really should go back. Merlin had known it was coming; but it felt like losing a limb when he had to catch the train to Worcester and Arthur had headed for London.

So now, months later, Arthur was stuck working this weekend and Merlin had the weekend to himself, if you could call it that – he’d been in his workshop all of Saturday and he’d promised Will he’d go for Sunday dinner with him at the pub up the road; his best friend had been complaining he didn’t see enough of Merlin, even though they shared a flat.

They walked down to the pub companionably. It was mid November now, ‘The Apprentice’ had been airing for a few weeks and last Wednesday had been the already infamous ‘Valiant’ episode. They had kept most of the ‘action’ in, with some strategic editing removing some of Valiant’s less pleasant comments, mainly the homophobic ones. The footage of him leaping over the table to attack Sir Uther was priceless. Luckily the cameras had not picked up on Merlin’s magical intervention, although Sir Uther now knew who had saved him that day. 

The day after the show aired the news had been strategically broken about Valiant kidnapping Arthur - Uther had given the press conference, saying that Arthur had been saved by a ‘knight in shining armour’ - a headline the papers went with when they ran the story but they had no actual details. The day after that they had somehow managed to get an interview with Valiant who claimed that he had done it because ‘no one messes with me and gets away with it’. Merlin had worried that it all coming up again might trigger a reaction in Arthur but he was still surprisingly stoic and matter of fact about the whole incident.

Will went to the bar to order whilst Merlin found a table, ignoring the curious stares of the other patrons, used to it now that the show was airing and the local paper had taken to writing a column about Merlin’s progress on the show. He was always amused by the little old ladies approaching him in Waitrose and telling him he was a ‘lovely boy’.

When Will arrived at the table with their pints he was balancing a Sunday newspaper under his chin, which once he’d deposited the drinks on the table he threw down on the bench and sat beside it. “I didn’t order lunch yet, I thought you might reconsider when you’ve seen this -” he picked up the paper and handed it to Merlin. “He’s a fucking wanker and if I ever...”

Merlin tuned him out as he stared down at the page two of the paper, a picture of himself with Edwin, from around three years ago, adorned the page beneath the headline, ‘Apprentice star is love cheat’. He gasped, his stomach churning at the photo sight of the photo, Edwin’s arm possessively wrapped around his waist, Merlin’s face the epitome of strain. The article then went on to talk about how Edwin had been madly in love with a young Merlin but had been left heartbroken when he’d found out he’d been cheating on him all along with Will.

It was all utter bullshit. Merlin took a deep breath and counted to ten. Edwin was nothing. He was no longer under his spell. “You’ve just been outed,” he joked feebly to Will. “And you’re not even 10% gay.”

Will didn’t smile; his concerned eyes on Merlin, “Do you want to go?”

Merlin looked around the pub then, and some people were staring at him as if waiting for his reaction to the newspaper article. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of leaving now. Bloody vultures. “No, go and order dinner will you? I’ll be fine.” He’d just give them all his favourite nose warts if they said anything to him.

He was, however, struggling to control the sudden surge of angry magic that wanted to explode and carve a path from there to wherever Edwin and his smug, arrogant face was and burn him alive. He wanted to peel the flesh from his bones and –

His mobile rang in his pocket, the giveaway ringtone that indicated it was Arthur the only reason he answered at all, “Arthur.”

“Oh God Merlin, are you OK? I’ve just seen the paper and I’ll be with you in an hour alright?”

Merlin’s heart and his magic instantly calmed down at the thought of seeing Arthur soon. 

“Will’s there, right? I don’t want you on your own.”

“Will’s here, we’re in The Unicorn. I’m OK – but I’ll be glad to see you.” He hung up and then began to wonder where Arthur was that he could be in Malvern in just an hour.

Merlin only picked at his lunch, feeling horribly shaken up, leaving Will in the pub talking to one of the regulars about Formula 1 racing, and hastened back to the flat to meet Arthur. As he approached he saw Arthur on the pavement pretending to peruse the wares in the antique shop window. All he wanted was a hug to ease his tension. Will was great, all protective and threatening to head over to Edwin’s and beat him to a pulp, and it was good that he cared – but Arthur could make Merlin feel better with just a look.

He sighed contentedly as he was folded in Arthur’s arms, enjoying burying his face in his neck, breathing in his cologne before giving in to the pull and pressing his mouth to his in a searing kiss. His tension floated away.

“How did you get here so fast? There’s no way you could have driven up from London in an hour,” Merlin took Arthur’s hand and led him up to the flat as he waited for his answer. 

“I was already on my way when I called,” Arthur said quickly – too quickly Merlin thought. He closed the door behind him and pulled Merlin into his arms immediately, his eyes scanning his face with concern. “I’ve spoken to my solicitor, we can definitely sue the paper for printing that defamatory piece of shit; Will too, implying that he’s gay when he’s not. I’ll make sure that that – that -” he broke off and hung his head at Merlin’s expression of horror.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this,” Merlin smiled gently. “Let’s not talk about him – yes, I’m fucking angry – but he’s nothing. Karma has always worked for me.” It had worked on Valiant and to some extent Cen, though Merlin had heard that Cen was now in the ARC – Alcohol Rehabilitation Centre, in a programme to conquer his addiction to alcohol. 

Arthur had footed the bill, and Merlin knew it was because he felt guilty for hitting him, after he’d heard about Cen’s alcoholism. Arthur didn’t know Merlin knew about that; but he hadn’t banked on Cen writing to Merlin to apologise for his behaviour.

Merlin merely added it to the list of things he loved about Arthur; and thought it was highly amusing that Cen had fallen into Uncle Cill’s prediction...’your truth lies in the ark.’ Coincidence? Merlin didn’t think so, not after Lance and Gwen.

He just hadn’t worked out how Arthur fitted into his own prediction about horses and coins, but he didn’t worry too much, he knew Arthur was ‘the one’, and he didn’t need to make it fit; one day it would all fall into place he was sure.

“Will won’t be back for ages and I’m feeling horny.” Merlin grabbed Arthur by the collar and backed into his bedroom. “I want you to fuck me so hard I see stars.”

Arthur complied.

=+=

God, this was like being back at school as being picked for the football team. There were eight of them, lined up, in the impressive top floor of the Swiss Re Building – otherwise known as ‘The Gherkin’ and under the watchful eye of Sir Uther, Arthur and Gaius – the two finalists, Gwaine and Leon, had to take turns to pick a member for their team. 

It was finally the final, three months after the final two had been chosen. Those three months had felt like forever. Eight of the previously fired candidates had been brought back to assist the two finalists to win their – as yet unannounced – task. Lance, Gwen, Morgause, Nimueh, Mordred, Sophia and Freya were joining Merlin as one of the lucky eight.

It was weird for Merlin to be back in this environment, having to act as though he was just another returning candidate when he and Uther had become almost friends. He kept calling him ‘son’ and they spent a lot of time chatting pleasantly over dinner if Morgana and the kids were there too. The children absolutely adored Arthur and he them, and they loved Uncle Merlin’s magic tricks. Merlin had not expected that turn of events; a few short months ago Uther had not known his only son liked men, yet here he was embracing his boyfriend into the family and making a real effort. He actually seemed to like Merlin.

“Congratulations to Gwaine and Leon for making it to the final week,” Sir Uther announced. “Arthur will call heads and tails to decide who gets to choose first. Arthur?”

Merlin’s eyes slid over to Arthur; raking him from top to toe with a suppressed groan of lust. He hadn’t seen him in far too long. He’d missed him. For Arthur’s part, yes, he looked fucking gorgeous – but Merlin could see the tiredness hidden underneath and the strain in his stance.

It just made him want to slink over to him and give him a big welcome hug. Instead he turned his attention back to the proceedings, which luckily enough, still meant watching Arthur as he called, “Heads or Tails?” and Gwaine jumped in and picked tails. Arthur flipped his hand over, “Tails it is.”

“OK, Gwaine, you can have first choice,” Sir Uther confirmed.

Gwaine’s brown eyes swept the assembly of rejected candidates, slipping into a slight sneer as his eyes slid over Sophia. “Morgause.”

Leon didn’t need to look, “Merlin,” he grinned, and Merlin happily went to stand beside his friend.

“Nimueh,” said Gwaine.

“Gwen,” Leon countered.

“Lance.”

“Freya.”

“Mordred.”

This left Sophia with no option than to join Leon’s team, which she did, with a glower in Gwaine’s direction. Merlin silently hoped she wouldn’t cause any problems for Leon. He liked Gwaine, but he’d been rooting for Leon since he’d known his friend was in the final. 

“Each of you will be given an exclusive venue and a £5,000 budget. You will be hosting a charity entertainment show of your choice at the venue and selling tickets for this; I expect a profit to be made on my £5,000 outlay because all profit will be going to charity. To help you along; I’ve arranged for a selection of special celebrity acts to be available to you and have their names should make a good selling point. You won’t get a choice of which celebrities you get as you will take turns to pull the names from the hat.” Sir Uther smiled what Merlin could only describe as his evil smile. “After this, one of you will be hired and the other will be fired. Any questions?”

Both Leon and Gwaine shook their heads. 

“Good, now Arthur will be observing Gwaine,” Sir Uther flashed a brief glance at Merlin. “Gaius will follow Leon. Now - get to work!”

Of course Sir Uther would put Arthur with the other team. He and Arthur couldn’t work together now that their relationship was on the verge of being public knowledge. 

Each team were allocated offices in building, “Bloody hell,” Leon managed. “This is an architect’s dream in here.”

“Yeah, and did you know it was in Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince?” he added, allowing himself a minor squee, which he considered he was allowed seeing as he and Harry Potter had a lot in common.

“I think it’s gorgeous in here,” Gwen sighed.

Sophia rolled her eyes, “Yes, yes, it’s wonderful. Don’t we have work to be getting on with?”

Leon’s jaw tightened but he sat down and opened the info file they had been given. “Right, celebrities...hat picking time is tomorrow morning, so at least we should know what kind of event we are holding by then – once we’ve done that we can get tickets sorted.” It was Monday morning; the event was to be held on Saturday night. “Hmmm, let’s see – there are ten celebs to pick so that’s five each – Michael Buble -”

“Guh!” huffed Sophia. “Boring!”

“Not boring to a lot of people!” Freya argued. “My Mum loves him.”

“I -”

“Miranda Hart,” continued Leon.

“Really?” gasped Merlin. “I love her! I hope we get her.”

“No – way – John Barrowman!” Leon threw the file on table. “We’ve got to get him... Oh God, this is so random, it’s all just based on luck!” 

“He’s hot,” Sophia said huskily. “I’ll manage him if we get him.”

Merlin laughed out loud at that. “He’s gay,” he told her. 

“No – that was just for that program, what was it again – you know, the one about the aliens?”

“Torchwood,” Gwen giggled. “And he’s totally gay in real life. Not that it matters of course, there’s nothing wrong with it -”

“Who else is on the list?” Freya asked Leon. 

“Oh my GOD, Peter Kay!”

There was an excited chorus of ‘no way’.

“If we get him that would be a real coup, people will be beating down the door for tickets,” Merlin noted. “Leon – we have to get him.” Merlin could use magic to make sure that name popped out of the hat...but cheating was bad karma, and he wanted Leon to win.

Leon had turned green again. He looked down at the list and almost swooned, “You’re not going to believe this – Take That and Westlife!”

“Seriously? Freya snatched the list out of Leon’s hands. “Blimey, you couldn’t make this up! And look, Bill Bailey, Ross Noble...”

“Who?” asked Sophia. Everyone else rolled their eyes. 

“...Al Murray,” Freya pulled a face. “And the last one is Alan Carr. Oh, I adore him!”

“Oh heck, what are we going to do with them when we’ve got them?” sighed Leon.

=+=

Naturally, Merlin went on the coffee run at the first given opportunity; there was a Starbucks over the road. As he walked down the corridor to the lift, he glanced into another office and saw Gwaine and his team poring over their file, the camera crew to one side, Arthur leaning against the wall to the other, their eyes catching as Merlin passed.

Merlin raised an eyebrow and continued in his mission to reach Starbucks, joining the ridiculously long queue with a sigh. A few people glanced at him as though they recognised him, but on the whole he was ignored; ‘famous’ faces were ten a penny in this part of London, there were far more interesting people to be seen. The fuss had died down regarding the Edwin scandal after Arthur’s solicitor forced the paper to print an apology, and launched a law suit against both the paper and Edwin.

“I never did buy your magic that caramel latte I promised all those months ago,” said a voice in his ear. Arthur.

“I think after saving your arse from the evil kidnapper, you owe it a lot more than that!” Merlin leant back into Arthur, enough to feel him there, not enough to draw attention. “I missed you.”

Arthur laughed softly, speaking in a low voice for Merlin’s eats only, “Idiot, you know I can’t stay away from you for long.”

Merlin shrugged, unashamed. Arthur had been away for over a week, which meant two whole weekends apart, Arthur’s flight schedule meaning they hadn’t been able to meet up last night.

Now here they were, and Merlin ached for Arthur. 

“Follow me,” Merlin whispered then, leaving the queue and heading up the stairs to the upper seating area; all the time aware that Arthur had done as he was told and was right behind him. The upstairs was quiet, just a couple of teenagers sitting in the corner with only eyes for each other. Merlin grabbed Arthur’s wrist and dragged him into the toilet.

OK, so the loo in Starbucks wasn’t the most romantic place for a tryst with one’s lover, but right then and there, Merlin didn’t care. Over a week without Arthur had felt like a lifetime.

Keeping his eyes locked on Arthur’s, he dropped to his knees.

=+=

When Merlin finally arrived back with the coffees no one batted an eye when he blamed the long queue for the amount of time he’d taken, well, Gaius’s eyebrow nearly went into orbit – but Merlin could hazard a guess that he was probably in the know about him and Arthur and had correctly guessed what Merlin might have been up to. Of course the beauty now was, he could no longer get fired, so aside from fucking this up for Leon – which he had no intention of doing – he couldn’t go wrong. 

“I’ve made my decision,” Leon told Merlin as he handed out the coffees. “We’re having a comedy cabaret, and if we get one or more of the groups then we can mingle that in.”

“Oh, sounds good – let’s hope we get at least one music act – both of the bands will be a huge draw,” Merlin said, privately hoping they got Take That rather than Westlife.

Leon nodded, his face tense. “OK, so until we know who we’ve got, lets get on with the logistical side of things and the budget – Sophia – can I put you in charge of sales, Gwen and Freya – decor – and Merlin could you look at the budget for me? Anyone got any ideas on the overall theme?”

Merlin took a huge swig of his caramel latte and picked up the calculator.

=+=

Merlin didn’t know how they’d done it, but they had pulled it off. The event had to have a theme, whilst showcasing the acts that they had secured, which in their case the theme as ‘chocolate’. The Chocolate Cabaret.

Leon had managed to get Hotel Chocolat to sponsor the event, for free, at short notice – it would be good publicity for them – so there was a welcome glass of champagne and chocolate fondues. The event was formal dress, with simply decorated tables, each seat being sold for £110 with 320 seats set out in the ‘cabaret’ style to encompass the stage.

They had sold all of the seats – how could they not with their line up? Merlin and Gwen had been in charge of getting the room sorted, planning the schedule for the evening, liaising with the sponsor, making sure the venue looked classy with the limited budget that they had. Leon, Sophia and Freya had been on sales. Merlin had worked out ticket prices based on some market research on other similar events, and then upped the price accordingly when Leon pulled Take That out of the hat. Then with Leon they had worked out how much reduction to give to group bookings so that the sales team could offer the discounts if things got tight. 

There were no rules saying that a personal business contacts couldn’t be used by the ‘helpers’ and Sophia worked for a large sales company; one email to a colleague there who had sent it on around the company and over half the tickets had been sold in one day. Merlin reviewed his original opinion that Sophia might be hindrance in the task.

Also out of the hat had come John Barrowman, Peter Kay, Bill Bailey and Miranda Hart. Getting Peter Kay as well as Take That was a real coup.

Thus, the evening was arranged that John Barrowman would compère; and at some point join in with Take That for one of their songs. Miranda Hart would be performing stand-up first, then Take That would come out to perform an acoustic version of ‘Pray’ and ‘How Deep is Your Love’. After that Bill Bailey would do his thing, followed by two more Take That songs, ‘A Million Love Songs’ and ‘Why Can’t I Wake Up With You’. It had been a tough choice over the ‘headline’ because Peter Kay and Take That were both massively popular, but in the end, after much discussion, they had decided that Take That should headline because Peter could be on the stage whilst there was a certain amount of setting up required by Take That for the rest of their set, which could go on behind the scenes whilst Peter did his routine. Take That were not doing their massive all singing all dancing show, this was an intimate venue and it wouldn’t have worked.

The whole event had been a nightmare to schedule. The show started at 7pm in the end, with champagne and chocolates from 6pm. The whole team had to play the role of hosts, making sure the guests were all happy, ensuring the waiting-staff were doing their jobs, selling raffle tickets for autographed merchandise and chocolate hampers.

Merlin would be amazed if Leon didn’t win after this, it was perfect. Of course, he had no idea what Gwaine had laid on – he knew of course which acts he had, but as for any of the details, it was all top secret; even spending every night in Arthur’s bed didn’t get Merlin any closer to the details. Arthur was keeping it very close to his chest, and although Merlin was dying to know what the other team was getting up to, he loved Arthur all the more for his professionalism.

Heck, he loved Arthur, end of. Even if Arthur was up to something and it was bugging the hell out of Merlin trying to suss out what.

He just wished Arthur was here observing this event and not Gwaine’s, because Merlin felt really proud of what they had achieved. 

All the team could do now was hope that they had got the figures right; just selling all their tickets meant nothing if the other team had done the same but for more money, or if they lost out on the sales of the ‘extras’ – the bar, the food, the raffle and the chocolate.

The awful thing about this was that Leon wouldn’t find out until the last episode of the show later in the month – which meant over a week’s wait in limbo, almost in hiding, keeping quiet about whether or not they had been fired in the last week or if they had made the final. Everything about the outcome of the show was kept cloak and dagger until the day the show aired. 

Merlin wouldn’t see a camera crew again until it was his turn to go on ‘You’re Fired’ next week.

=+=

The morning after the final, Arthur woke Merlin up with his lips around his cock, bringing Merlin to orgasm whilst he was still half asleep. They were still in the hotel, their last morning there before everyone returned back to normality. 

“Can you ring for room service whilst I grab a shower,” said Arthur, jumping out of bed, full of beans. Merlin groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. He was exhausted and it was Sunday morning, how could Arthur be so lively? 

He heard the bathroom door close, and stuck out one arm, feeling blindly around for the phone to call room service. His hand closed over the room phone as Arthur’s mobile began to ring, loudly. Merlin huffed and made a grab for it, intending to silence it. Somehow – with the stupid thing being a BlackBerry – instead of turning it off Merlin hit the answer button and heard a distant tinny voice saying. “Hello? Arthur?”

Hastily he brought the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“Arthur, it’s Owain?”

“Er – sorry – this isn’t Arthur, he’s, er – he’s stepped out the room,” Merlin covered, not wanting to announce to the world that Arthur was in the shower, as that would make it obvious that Merlin was in the same hotel room, and it was too early to go public.

“Right. Sorry! I’ll just call back later then -”

“Can I take a message?” Merlin asked, still half asleep at this point.

“No, it’s fine,” said the voice. “He’ll know what it’s about.”

“M’kay, bye,” Merlin hung up happily and scrabbled around for the other phone so he could order breakfast. That done, he curled back up and fell back to sleep.

When Arthur woke him again breakfast had arrived and Merlin forgot all about the phone call. 

They ate breakfast in bed and Merlin began to dread his inevitable return to Worcestershire later that afternoon. Being away from Arthur sucked, but Arthur hadn’t said anything about it, it seemed that the long distance pattern was set. Merlin didn’t want that, only seeing Arthur at weekends, he wanted to see him every day, sleep at his side every night. 

“I know you’ve been away from your work a hell of a lot lately, but do you think you could take a long weekend this weekend?” Arthur said, running his forefinger around Merlin’s belly button.

Merlin thought Arthur must have read his mind. “I’m filming ‘You’re Fired’ the Tuesday after next so I might as well stay down here until then anyway,” Merlin said, ignoring his nerves that protested at the thought of being interviewed in front of a live audience.

“No, that’s not what I meant – I’m taking you away on Thursday. We’ll come back Monday morning ready for the show.”

“Oh, OK. Where?”

“You’ll find out when we get there – bring your passport.”

Merlin perked up. “Not fair! How will I know what to pack?”

“Normal winter clothes will do.” OK, so they weren’t going to Hawaii.

“OK. Oh – someone called Owain rang when you were in the shower.”

Arthur flushed, “Oh? What did he say?”

Merlin narrowed his eyes, “Just that he would call back. Who’s Owain?”

“My new PA. He organised the trip for me.” Arthur looked shifty.

He was definitely up to something else; Merlin had been suspicious since Arthur’s incredibly short journey time to Worcestershire from London the other week. Merlin only had to cast out a tiny shred of magic now to pick up on Arthur’s feelings if he wanted to. He was up to something, and it wasn’t this trip, but it was something good – Merlin could sense the intentions behind whatever it was.

“OK,” he said, fighting back a grin. “Pack for a cold climate. Oooh – are we going to see Father Christmas in Greenland?”

=+=

“Welcome to New York,” Arthur drawled in a fake American accent. 

Merlin was still befuddled after falling asleep halfway into the journey...approximately five minutes after he and Arthur joined the mile high club in the bedroom in the Pendragon private jet. He’d expected he’d be flying somewhere because Arthur had told him to pack his passport, but he’d thought Dublin or Berlin; he’d never been to New York. “Seriously? Wow!”

“It’s beautiful here this time of year,” Arthur said, as he led Merlin down the jet’s stairs. “The people of New York know how to do Christmas.”

Merlin felt a surge of love for Arthur... New York. Oh my God.

The Starry Night by Van Gogh was in New York. “Tell me we’ll have time to go to MoMA?” he asked Arthur excitedly.

“We’ve got time to do whatever you want to do.”

Merlin took Arthur’s hand and threaded his fingers through his. “Thank you Arthur, this is brilliant.”

It was no surprise to Merlin that Uther owned an apartment in New York, which Merlin knew had to be worth more than his entire hometown, with a view over Central Park. New York was five hours behind London, so the night was early, and as Merlin had slept on the plane, he found he was full of renewed energy when Arthur suggested they go and find somewhere to eat.

They walked hand in hand on the sidewalk, both wrapped up in hats, scarves and gloves to keep out the bitter December chill, Arthur leading the way, “There a couple of good places down this way,” he told Merlin. “Tomorrow I thought we could either do the tourist thing – Empire State, ice skating – that kind of thing. Or if you want, we could go to MoMA first and take it from there?”

Merlin grinned, wanting to do everything, “Can we go shopping? I want to see all the famous shop window displays on Fifth Avenue and – yes – let’s go ice skating at the Rockefellar Center.” Seeing all the lights on the taxi ride over had filled him with Christmas spirit. They could go to MoMA later as they would be here for four days.

Arthur laughed and squeezed Merlin’s hand, “You’re such a girl Merlin.”

Merlin shoved all his worries about appearing on the ‘You’re Fired’ show next week, vowing to enjoy the moment, enjoy Arthur.

=+=

Unexpectedly, it was Arthur who fell on his arse when they went ice skating and Merlin was the one who sailed around the rink like he’d been born in ice skates. Merlin almost pulled a muscle laughing at him as he fell on his backside over and over again. 

As it was, this was their last full day in New York, and Merlin was worn out after going to MoMA, the Empire State Building, Ellis Island, Liberty Island and every other tourist trap in the city, as well as going shopping and spending more money than he’d care to admit on clothes he never knew he wanted.

“You’re so supportive,” Arthur complained as Merlin helped him to his feet for the fourth time. “How come you’re so good at this?”

Merlin tried to regain his composure, “No idea, I fully expected to be the one going splat.”

Arthur tumbled into Merlin’s arms, his hands splaying over Merlin’s hips. Their eyes met, and their mouths gravitated towards each other like magnets. 

They had planned on eating out that night, but as it was, they barely made it out of their ice skates and back to the apartment in time. Arthur pinned Merlin to the back of the front door and released his cock from his jeans and –

Arthur’s phone trilled. Arthur cursed, “I have to get this,” he muttered, pushing away from Merlin reluctantly, nodding towards the lounge, indicating Merlin should get comfortable in there.

Merlin sat on the sofa and flicked on the fire with the remote, so fucking horny he thought he might explode, thinking he might distract himself by texting Will. Except for his phone was in his bag, on the floor in the hall.

Annoyed, he made his way back to the hall, his hand reaching out to open the door, wanting to be quiet because Arthur was on the phone, pacing the hallway.

“...no – no don’t do that! Merlin doesn’t know. No, he... Good – and he’s not going to know. OK, OK, got it. It has to be done by Christmas though... OK, thanks.”

Merlin froze, his hand on the door knob. What didn’t he know? Who was Arthur on the phone to?

“Great, thanks Morgana, you’re a star.”

Merlin dashed away from the door and perched back on the sofa, his still hard cock causing him mild discomfort as he tried to arrange himself nonchalantly on the sofa. What had that conversation been about? He’d been trying so hard to let this play out, whatever it was that Arthur was plotting, but he was so damned curious.

Arthur came back into the room, tucked his phone into his jeans pocket and sitting down beside Merlin, “Sorry about that,” he said, as though he hadn’t just been having a conversation about Merlin not knowing something.

Merlin’s magic knew Arthur wasn’t up to anything bad, as did his instincts, but he couldn’t help asking, “Oh, who was it?” trying to be casual. 

“Just Owain, from the office,” he lied, badly, and that was the moment Merlin could sense just how much Arthur didn’t want him to know what he was up to yet, the flare of nerves that Merlin might discover him clear in Merlin’s head. 

“Still working even when on holiday?” Merlin deflected. Arthur had lied, Arthur was a terrible liar. 

“I could have sworn I heard you call Owain ‘Morgana’,” Merlin couldn’t stop himself from saying, watching Arthur carefully. “You’re plotting something. I just wanted you to know that I know.”

“Merlin -”

“Now, if you wouldn’t mind finishing what you started in the hall earlier? I’m a man in need here you know,” he gestured at his groin, removing the cushion he’d pulled over when he’d sat down earlier, to reveal his swollen cock jutting out from his open jeans, as Arthur had left him earlier. 

He saw Arthur’s eyes widen and his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, licking his lips. “Merlin what did I do to deserve you?” He leant forward and kissed Merlin slowly, twining his hands in Merlin’s hair. Merlin straddled his lap, desperate for closer contact.

With one hand Merlin managed to divulge Arthur of his jumper. Arthur was making similar progress with Merlin’s clothing. Merlin wriggled out of his jeans, removing himself from Arthur’s lap to allow room for yanking off his remaining clothing before pulling Arthur down onto the rug in front of the fire. There he straddled him again, leaning down for another taste of his mouth, gasping into the kiss as Arthur ran his thumbs over his nipples, sending bolts of need down to Merlin’s already desperate cock. 

Merlin wrapped his longer fingers around both their cocks, fisting them together, loving the way Arthur’s heartbeat quickened at the contact. “God Merlin,” Arthur moaned. “Need you.”

Merlin used his magic to float lube and condoms from the bedroom; more attuned with his powers in that moment than ever before – he’d simply thought about them and they had summoned themselves. 

Arthur flipped him onto his back, sliding down Merlin’s body, his hands parting his thighs as he slid his hands under his buttocks and sought out his entrance with his index finger. 

Bending his head he took in the head of Merlin’s cock, teasing circles around it with his tongue. “Nngh – Arthur – no foreplay, just – want you...”

Arthur released Merlin’s cock and slid back up Merlin’s body for a kiss, grabbing the lube as he passed. One long filthy kiss later and his lubed fingers were inside Merlin, but Merlin didn’t want to wait, he was ready.

“Now Arthur, please,” he begged. 

Arthur knelt, replaced his fingers with his cock and began to edge his way inside Merlin. Merlin rolled his hips back and let his legs fall over Arthur’s shoulders. He needed this. Needed Arthur. He reached out and closed his fingers over Arthur’s hipbone as Arthur began to move inside him, watching the concentration on Arthur’s face as he in turn watched his own cock moving in and out of Merlin.

“Merlin,” he said, their eyes meeting. “Merlin I -” Merlin clenched himself around Arthur’s cock, loving the expressions that chased over his face. Arthur’s pace slowed, groaned, shaking his head. Understanding, Arthur picked up speed again, slamming into Merlin hard. 

‘I love you’ was on the tip of Merlin’s tongue, but he couldn’t form the words, he was so close to coming, he could feel the orgasm building in his toes, working through his body, that any kind of coherent thought was beyond his capabilities.

Arthur twisted his hips, changing the angle, sending new waves of pleasure through Merlin, tipping him over, until it was too much and he came, hard, fingers digging into Arthur’s hips, come exploding onto Arthur’s chest.

When Arthur flopped down beside him Merlin got up unsteadily and went to get a damp cloth to wipe Arthur clean; when he returned to the rug, Arthur was asleep. Merlin cleaned him slowly before grabbing a blanket off the sofa and covering them both, settling down to indulge one of his favourite new pastimes – watching Arthur sleep.

=+=

Merlin was the third candidate onto ‘You’re Fired’ after Gwen and Sophia. Arthur was in the studio audience. The three celebrity guests around the table with Dara O'Briain were Time Out editor Mark Frith, businesswoman Sarah Tremellen who set up the chain of shops Bravissimo, and comedian Hugh Dennis. 

He waited in the dressing room for someone to come and get him, on his fourth coffee of the hour, scared half to death of what was to come, remembering his ‘episode’ at the shopping channel.

The news of himself and Arthur had come out in the paper that morning, unplanned. Some wily journalist had taken pictures of them in ice skating in New York, kissing passionately just before they had gone back to the apartment for their fireside sex. Luckily the journalist had not followed them back to the apartment with his telephoto lens.

Their ‘story’ – agreed long before now – for the sake of the media, was that they had got together since filming had finished at the end of August. Of course, anyone interviewing Cenred or Valiant might find themselves with a different story; but Merlin didn’t think Cen would be a problem in the light of his apology letter. Valiant might be a spanner in the works, but he’d never had any concrete proof of his suspicions. Besides, he was in prison and not the most credible of sources.

Nevertheless, Merlin knew he was in for a serious ribbing because he’d met with Dara and the director earlier and been forewarned of what would lie ahead – so, couple that with being in front of a live audience having to answer questions about his performance and be mocked by the guest celebs - well, it was an understatement to say that Merlin was not looking forward to this experience.

“Merlin, you’re up,” Joe appeared in the doorway, smiling at Merlin like an old friend. 

“Thanks Joe,” Merlin almost whimpered, taking one last glance at himself in the mirror before following Joe. The production team had insisted on styling him as he had been when he’d ‘modelled’ so he had his ‘just shagged’ hair atop a fitted suit, worn with Converse. He felt like Doctor Who.

Joe told him to wait just off set, so he stood, his nerves and his magic clashing with one another; God he needed a hug from Arthur right now.

“Please welcome – Merlin Emrys!” Joe gave Merlin a little shove and he walked out onto set, waved at the audience with a smile and a fake confidence that he’d mustered up from somewhere deep down. Seeing Arthur in the audience a couple of rows back settled him some. Arthur winked.

It started with an inevitability that Merlin had known was coming, they talked about his successes on the show, his opinions of some of the less popular candidates and asked the celebrity guests if they’d thought Merlin’s input into tasks was good. Hugh Dennis mocked him for his moaning during the marketing task and they showed a montage of him trying desperately to wiggle out of doing the modelling. That was followed by footage of him doing the photo shoot with Kraftwerk’s ‘Das Model’ playing over the top. 

Merlin joined in the laughter, carried away with the moment; even he had admitted that had been his whingiest moment on the show.

“Of course, the new and improved you caught the eye of more than just the industry experts,” Dara said, and Merlin knew this was the moment. “There’s the small matter of your romance with Sir Uther’s son and heir; and this series – his boardroom adviser, Arthur. So, tell us Merlin, was it love at first sight?”

The audience cheered and wolf-whistled. On one of the screens off set Merlin saw the vision-mix to Arthur, who was flushed but grinning like a lovesick teenager.

Merlin decided to go with it. “Yes Dara, I do believe it was; it just took me quite a while to realise it.”

“Well, as they say Merlin – and I’m sure with you being a photographer you will appreciate – the camera never lies,” Dara smirked. “We’ve taken the liberty of putting together a little history of your romance. Are you ready for this?”

“Oh no,” Merlin laughed, actually intrigued to see what they had done. “Bring it on.”

The screens around the studio started to play another montage, this time with Merlin’s ‘live’ face in the corner of the picture, recording his reaction. It was a combination of slow motion and real time clips, played out to the tune of ‘Everything I do (I do it for you)’. Merlin tried not to squirm in his seat at the footage they had found of his interactions with Arthur, background shots of him looking longingly at Arthur – and of Arthur doing the same, as far back as the first task. 

“Ah, this series has produced two happy couples, viewers – ain’t love grand?” said Dara when the footage ended and Merlin was crimson red. “Arthur, love at first sight for you too then?”

Merlin face-palmed as Arthur’s face appeared in the monitors, “Absolutely Dara; as the clip just showed, I took a shine to Merlin from day one.”

“So, what does the future hold for the two of you?”

“It’s still being written,” Arthur said.

Merlin grinned. Once this week was over and he’d done his contractual appearances on breakfast TV and various radio shows, Arthur was taking a long Christmas break up in Worcestershire with Merlin. The final ‘You’re Hired’ show, in which Merlin had to be in the studio audience for, was being filmed almost live on Sunday. The boardroom decision was being filmed the day before, with time for editing and adding to the final show ready to go out on Sunday night with ‘You’re Hired’ straight after.

Merlin couldn’t wait to find out the result and then grab Arthur to himself for two weeks.

The rest of the filming went in a blur, and Merlin was proud that he didn’t pass out, swear or magically blow up Dara. 

He just had to make sure he didn’t do any damage to the bevy of photographers that had been stalking them earlier and were more than likely waiting for them outside the studio. Their big gay love affair was hot news this week; and coming on the back of Morgana’s long lost sister revelation and Arthur’s kidnapping, the press were in love with Arthur.

Merlin couldn’t blame them.

=+=

Merlin sat in the studio audience between Gwen and Mordred. All of the original candidates were there, even Cen, with the obvious exception of Valiant. They had been watching the final show on a big screen for the last hour, and this was the moment of truth – Sir Uther was soon to announce who he had hired.

The silence was almost deafening as the audience watched with bated breath. 

“Gwaine made £21,000 in ticket sales and £4,478 from the bar and food,” Arthur announced. Gwaine’s theme had been ‘Winter Wonderland’, and the party had been impressive.

Sir Uther nodded, impressed with the figures. “How did Leon fare?” he asked Gaius.

“Leon made £40,700 in ticket sales and an impressive £10,836 from the bar and sundries,” Gaius announced, and the audience watching gasped. That was a big difference.

“Gwaine, you didn’t charge enough for your tickets, nor did you sell them all,” Sir Uther mulled. “Leon, you sold all of the tickets and made more money on the extras. Your strategy was good, your ticket prices were valid and competitive and the show was well planned. I’m impressed.”

Leon was biting his lip nervously. Gwaine looked like he was going to the gallows. 

“Gwaine, you’ve done well to reach the final and your numbers were good, your track record is impressive – however – Leon’s take on the task had an edge.”

Sir Uther pretended to ponder some more. “Gwaine,” he took a deep breath, as did the studio audience. Merlin wondered if Gwaine might still win. “You should be proud of what you’ve achieved. Leon – you’re just what I’m looking for – you’re hired.” The hiring finger was pointed.

The studio audience erupted.

Merlin sighed happily. There was a twinge of envy – how could there not be when he knew he could have been in the final? – but he was so happy for Leon, and it couldn’t have happened to a nicer bloke. Maybe now he’d find the confidence to make a move on Joe.

Leon Castle, winner of ‘The Apprentice; 2010. 

Merlin Emrys, winner of Arthur Pendragon! Merlin grinned, still clapping for Leon; never more certain he’s made the right choice.

=+=

“Ugh, do we have to go for a walk now?” huffed Merlin. “I’m exhausted!” To demonstrate, Merlin flopped back onto his and Will’s ancient sofa and covered his eyes with the back of his hand. 

It was Christmas Eve and there was quite a bit of snow on the ground making the town look like a Victorian Christmas scene. At Arthur’s insistence, Merlin had left the gallery in the capable hands of his staff with a nice Christmas bonus for their trouble. In his mind’s eye he’d pictured curling up on the sofa with Arthur, some mulled wine and whatever sentimental crap film was on the telly. Now Arthur had apparently gone ‘last minute shopping’ and Will wanted to go for a bloody walk.

“Yes, we do,” said Will in the voice Merlin only ever heard him use on work phone calls when he meant business. 

Merlin knew better than to argue with that voice. He rolled his eyes and went to find his walking boots. 

“Why do we have to drive somewhere to go on a walk?” he complained, getting into Will’s beat up old van and putting on the seat belt.

“Because I said so,” replied Will with a grin, and Merlin suddenly, instantly suspicious. It was that thing again; the thing he wasn’t allowed to know about, whatever it was Arthur had been plotting for weeks now. Morgana was in on it. Uther was in on it. Arthur’s PA was in on it. Obviously so was Will.

“OK, what’s really going on?”

Will shrugged innocently. “Nothing, just a simple walk on Christmas Eve.”

“Hmmm,” Merlin sat back in the seat and looked out the window.

It was funny, when Merlin had first realised Arthur was up to something, the old Merlin might have been suspicious. He might have thought Arthur was cheating, or planning to break up with him. Maybe, for one small second the possibility had crossed his mind, but he’d only had to look at Arthur to reassure himself.

Arthur Pendragon was silly for him. Merlin didn’t really know why, but perhaps it didn’t matter anyway. All that did matter was that the man loved him.

Was Arthur throwing him some kind of surprise Christmas party? Maybe he’d hired New Model Army to do a special Christmas gig just for him? Maybe...maybe Merlin had no idea, but guessing was kind of fun.

Will headed the car over the other side of the hills towards the Herefordshire side and soon Merlin saw the signs for Colwall. If this was just a walk after all, then there was a very nice pub in the village that Merlin might try luring Will into later.

When Will turned off the road and followed a private driveway, Merlin’s brows knitted together. “Will – where -?”

Will stopped the van next to where a couple of other cars were parked in front of an old Tudor looking black and white house, and Merlin immediately recognised Arthur’s, Uther’s and Morgana’s cars among them. 

Without saying anything Will unbelted and got out of the van, Merlin followed. The roof of the house was snow covered, as were the gardens. It was picture perfect.

Arthur appeared in the doorway of the house and walked slowly over to a confused Merlin, who was observing his every step, letting him take his hands in his and draw him close. “You knew I was up to something,” Arthur said almost warily, watching Merlin closely. “Well this is it. I bought a house – bought us a house.”

“I never expected this,” Merlin found his voice, trying to take in every detail at once. “This is amazing. Though I disagree that this is a house, I’d go with huge posh mansion! Can we go inside?” He felt dizzy. This was like a celebrity ‘Crib’.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Arthur led Merlin to the front door and without using a key, opened it and Merlin let himself be pulled inside.

“Bloody hell,” Merlin managed dazedly when Arthur had shown him room after room of 100% wow-factor, fully furnished, house - six bedrooms, five bathrooms, a cinema room, a gym, stables, offices and a whole extra house in the grounds. “You bought a house.”

“I’m going to be working from home a lot more, starting up a few ventures of my own and I didn’t want to do it someplace you’re not.” He still looked uncertain. “Are you OK with that? You’ll move in with me?”

“Hell yes! Where is everyone? Where’d Will go? How long do you think it will take us to christen all the rooms?” Merlin threw out the questions. “Have we got time to start now before the guests come out of hiding?”

“They’re in the pub,” Arthur confirmed, pulling Merlin flush with his body and gripping his arse, grinding himself against Merlin to show him what a good idea he thought that was. “I’m supposed to call them when we’re ready.”

“Thank fuck for that,” Merlin pushed Arthur back against the nearest door and backed him inside. Turning quickly to see what room it was he couldn’t stop the erotic images that flashed into his mind when he realised this was the games room, with a snooker table taking pride of place in the centre. “God Arthur, are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“I think I am,” Arthur said as it was his turn to back Merlin up before lifting him onto the snooker table so Merlin could hook his legs round his arse. “Unless you were thinking of actually...playing snooker?”

“Not a chance.” Merlin pulled Arthur’s face to his and kissed him.

=+=

“Merlin my boy, I’m glad you finally heeded my advice,” said Uncle Cill a couple of hours before Christmas dinner the following day; he was one of many guests along with Gaius and Uther looking forward to enjoying Morgana’s Christmas dinner with all the trimmings. “Arthur is your destiny, the other side of your coin, he completes you.” 

Merlin started to feel like he’d woken up in a cheesy Hollywood movie at the last line.

“I know,” he replied confidently. “But Uncle Cill – what did you tell him that day?”

“Hasn’t he told you?” the old man laughed. “Go to him now; he’s waiting for you outside.”

He’d never get a straight answer where his Godfather was concerned. Merlin rolled his eyes. “OK, I’ll bite.”

He grabbed his coat and left the house via the front door, scanning the foggy driveway for signs of his boyfriend, “Arthur?” he called.

“Over here.” Merlin followed the voice and found himself in front of the stables, Arthur in front of an open door looking terrified as he stared up at a large black horse. He glanced at Merlin. “I don’t know if I can do it.”

“Do what? Get on the horse -?” Merlin gaped as realisation dawned. “Oh Arthur, you clotpole! Who told you about the black horse?”

Arthur looked guilty. “I got it out of Will when he came home drunk one night a few weeks ago.”

“So you were going to get on this...” Merlin eyed the horse warily. “...massive horse and prove Uncle Cill’s prophecy?”

“That was the plan, but I’ve totally failed!” Arthur looked genuinely worried.

“I think you’re being way too literal about it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Valiant’s car was a black Bronco. That’s a black horse, right? Or – at some point, if you want to be exact about it, I’ve no doubt you’ll conquer that fear and be up on that horse in there.” Merlin wrapped his arms around Arthur and leant his forehead on Arthur’s. “What was Uncle Cill’s prophecy to you?”

“It wasn’t really a prophecy as such; he said my destiny lay in the hands of someone very special, someone I had only just met, and that I had loved that person from the minute I first saw them.”

“Me?” Merlin raised an eyebrow.

“Well of course you – oh, you’re joking.”

“So the horse -?”

“I wanted you to believe it too.” Merlin could see Arthur’s embarrassment.

“I do. Now. But I don’t need the ramblings of an old man to tell me I love you Arthur.”

Arthur’s face broke into the happiest smile Merlin had ever seen and he pulled Merlin into a hug. “You love me.”

“Well – duh,” whispered Merlin into Arthur’s neck. 

The End

=+=


End file.
